FAIRYLAND
If people came to know where my king's palace is， it would vanish into the air.
The walls are of white silver and the roof of shining gold.
The queen lives in a palace with seven courtyards， and she wears a jewel that cost all the wealth of seven kingdoms.
But， let me tell you， mother， in a whisper， where my king's palace is.
It is at the corner of our terrace where the pot of the tulsi plant stands.
The princess lies sleeping on the faraway shore of the seven impassable seas.
There is none in the world who can find her but myself.
She has bracelets on her arms and pearl drops in her ears； her hair sweeps down upon the floor.
She will wake when I touch her with my magic wand， and jewels will fall from her lips when she smiles.
But let me whisper in your ear， mother； she is there in the corner of our terrace where the pot of the tulsi plant stands.
When it is time for you to go to the river for your bath， step up to that terrace on the roof.
I sit on the corner where the shadows of the walls meet together.
Only puss is allowed to come with me， for she knows where the barber in the story lives.
But let me whisper， mother， in your ear where the barber in the story lives.
It is at the corner of the terrace where the pot of the tulsi plant stands.
仙人世界
如果人们知道了我的国王的宫殿在哪里，它就会消失在空气中的。
墙壁是白色的银，屋顶是耀眼的黄金。
皇后住在有七个庭院的宫苑里；她戴的一串珠宝，值得整整七个王国的全部财富。
不过，让我悄悄地告诉你，妈妈，我的国王的宫殿究竟在哪里。
它就在我们阳台的角上，在那栽着杜尔茜花的花盆放着的地方。
公主躺在远远的、隔着七个不可逾越的重洋的那一岸沉睡着。
除了我自己，世界上便没有人能够找到她。
她臂上有镯子，她耳上挂着珍珠，她的头发拖到地板上。
当我用我的魔杖点触她的时候，她就会醒过来；而当她微笑时，珠玉将会从她唇边落下来。
不过，让我在你的耳朵边悄悄地告诉你，妈妈，她就住在我们阳台的角上，在那栽着杜尔茜花的花盆放着的地方。
当你要到河里洗澡的时候，你走上屋顶的那座阳台来罢。
我就坐在墙的阴影所聚会的一个角落里。
我只让小猫儿跟我在一起，因为它知道那故事里的理发匠到底住在哪里。
他住的地方，就在阳台的角上，在那栽着杜尔茜花的花盆放着的地方。
THE LAND OF THE EXILE
Mother， the light has grown grey in the sky； I do not know what the time is.
There is no fun in my play， so I have come to you. It is Saturday， our holiday.
Leave off your work， mother； sit here by the window and tell me where the desert of Tepantar in the fairy tale is？
The shadow of the rains has covered the day from end to end.
The fierce lightning is scratching the sky with its nails.
When the clouds rumble and it thunders， I love to be afraid in my heart and cling to you.
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？
There are no hedges there to mark the fields， no footpath across it by which the villagers 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.
