[00:00.000] 作曲 : Numericalword[00:00.000] 编曲 : Numericalword[00:00.000]作词∶Albert Camus/Matthew Ward[00:00.000]口白∶Echoes[00:00.306]1. (page 3)[00:01.248]Maman died today.[00:03.752]Or yesterday maybe, I don't know.[00:07.425]I got a telegram from the home:[00:10.727]"Mother deceased.[00:12.745]Funeral tomorrow.[00:14.939]Faithfully yours."[00:17.516]That doesn't mean anything.[00:19.751]Maybe it was yesterday.[00:22.839]2. (page 59)[00:25.328]The sea carried up a thick, fiery breath.[00:28.601]It seemed to me as if the sky split open from one end to the other to rain down fire.[00:36.485]My whole being tensed and I squeezed my hand around the revolver.[00:42.495]The trigger gave;[00:45.796]I felt the smooth underside of the butt;[00:49.381]and there, in that noise,[00:52.473]sharp and deafening at the same time,[00:55.107]is where it all started.[00:57.741]I shook off the sweat and sun.[01:01.342]I knew that I had shattered the harmony of the day,[01:05.495]the exceptional silence of a beach where I'd been happy.[01:11.075]Then I fired four more times at the motionless body[01:15.061]where the bullets lodged without leaving a trace.[01:18.631]And it was like knocking four quick times on the door of unhappiness.[01:24.796]3. (page 122-123)[01:26.825]So close to death,[01:29.605]Maman must have felt free then[01:32.021]and ready to live it all again.[01:34.741]Nobody, nobody had the right to cry over her.[01:39.114]And I felt ready to live i t all again too.[01:42.556]As if that blind rage had washed me clean,[01:46.079]rid me of hope;[01:48.525]for the first time,[01:50.392]in that night alive with signs and stars,[01:53.335]I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world.[01:57.412]Finding it so much like myself[02:00.980]- so like a brother, really[02:03.678]- I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again.[02:09.021]For everything to be consummated,[02:12.106]for me to feel less alone,[02:14.689]I had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators[02:18.517]the day of my execution[02:20.592]and that they greet me with cries of hate.[02:25.655][02:28.349]"The stranger. 1942." Trans. Matthew Ward.[02:31.160]New York: Vintage International (1989).>