When the heavy rain patters for hours on the bamboo leaves， and our windows shake and rattle at the gusts of wind， I like to sit alone in the room， mother， with you， and hear you talk about the desert of Tepantar in the fairy tale.
Where is it， mother， on the shore of what sea， at the foot of what hills， in the kingdom of what king？
當烏雲發出雷鳴的時候，我喜歡懷著恐懼緊緊依偎在你的身上。
當傾盆大雨幾個小時不停地拍打著竹葉，
而我們的窗戶被狂風刮得嘎吱作響的時候，
我喜歡單獨和你坐在屋裏，媽媽，聽你講童話裏的特潘塔沙漠的故事。
它在哪裏，媽媽，在哪一個海岸上，在哪一座山腳下，在哪一個國王的疆土上？
There are no hedges there to mark the fields， no footpath across it by which the villages reach their village in the evening， or the woman who gathers dry sticks in the forest can bring her load to the market.
With patches of yellow grass in the sand and only one tree where the pair of wise old birds have their nest， lies the desert of Tepantar.
I can imagine how， on just such a cloudy day， the young son of the king is riding alone on a grey horse through the desert， in search of the princess who lies imprisoned in the giant’s palace across that unknown water.
田野上沒有籬笆來標明界線，也沒有一條穿越田野的小徑，讓村人在黃昏時走回村落，或者讓在樹林中拾幹柴的婦人將柴帶往市場。
沙漠上隻有小叢小叢的黃草和一棵樹，上麵有一對聰明的老鳥搭建的窩，那個地方就是特潘塔沙漠。
我能夠想象得出，在這樣一個陰雲密布的日子，國王那年輕的兒子，怎樣獨自騎著一匹灰馬，穿越這片沙漠，橫渡這片不知名的海洋，尋找那被巨人囚禁的公主。
When the haze of the rain comes down in the distant sky， and lightning starts up like a sudden fit of pain， does he remember his unhappy mother， abandoned by the king， sweeping the cow-stall and wiping her eyes， while he rides through the desert of Tepantar in the fairy tale？