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？
当乌云发出雷鸣的时候，我喜欢怀着恐惧紧紧依偎在你的身上。
当倾盆大雨几个小时不停地拍打着竹叶，
而我们的窗户被狂风刮得嘎吱作响的时候，
我喜欢单独和你坐在屋里，妈妈，听你讲童话里的特潘塔沙漠的故事。
它在哪里，妈妈，在哪一个海岸上，在哪一座山脚下，在哪一个国王的疆土上？
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.
田野上没有篱笆来标明界线，也没有一条穿越田野的小径，让村人在黄昏时走回村落，或者让在树林中拾干柴的妇人将柴带往市场。
沙漠上只有小丛小丛的黄草和一棵树，上面有一对聪明的老鸟搭建的窝，那个地方就是特潘塔沙漠。
我能够想象得出，在这样一个阴云密布的日子，国王那年轻的儿子，怎样独自骑着一匹灰马，穿越这片沙漠，横渡这片不知名的海洋，寻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？