人是如何离去的？为何会离去？又去往何方了？是否如古诗所云：“勿忘别离期，极目归鸿远…”
How does one leave? Why? Where to? Is it like in that old poem? "And don't forget that the time to leave has come...The wind will carry your eyes far away."
爱如满月…使人醉，偏又梦见你…
Love is like the full moon...make people drunk, and dream of you.
我是阿尔巴尼亚人，越过边境后，苦难才真开始，我知道死亡已抛在身后，正奔向自由，我一辈子从没跑那么快过。
An Albanian: My Calvary started when I crossed the border. As I knew that I had left death behind me, and that I was to regain freedom, I ran like never in my life.
我是伊朗人，我不敢相信自己有一天会希望月亮消失，我清楚记得那天，那天月亮如此明亮，让我无所遁形。
An Iranian: I would have never imagined that one day I would want the Moon to die. I can clearly remember the moment that I did...so that she wouldn't show, and betray me with her light and get me caught.
他朝街道走去，他站在那里等待，然后上了公交车，出城去了，整个车途中，他只是看着窗外，我明白他正在蜕变成另一个人，一点一点，慢慢地。
He walked towards the street. He stood there, waiting. Then he took the bus, heading out of town. During the whole time of the trip, he looked by the window. I could see he was becoming another man. Little by little.
同样的夜晚、同样的时间，只是灯外围光线更柔和，那晚我们做了爱，狂野却沉默，仿佛我是个陌生人，仿佛两个初次见面的陌生人，在影院黑暗里的露水情缘。
It was the same light, same time of the day...Except for the soft glow of a lampshade...We made love that night. Violently, silently. As if we didn't know one another. Like two strangers, who had meet for the first time...in the darkness of a moviehouse.
我只是个过客，我遇到的一切，都伤我至深。
I'm just a passerby, and everything I encounter hurts me to the core.
"我一无所有！"，有一次我说了气话。现在才明白，一无所有就是一无所有，甚至没有名字，常常需要借个名字，给我留个地方能看看，将我忘在大海深处吧。
"I don't have anything that is mine..." I arrogantly said one day. Now I've learned that nothing... is nothing. That we don't even have a name. And that each time we need to borrow one. Give me a place to look at. Forget me in the sea.
因为太阳过于曝晒，当大地开始炙烤，人们被迫离开，这就是后来史称“大迁徙”的开端。人们想方设法离开家园，他们在撒哈拉沙漠集合，那里有个孩子放风筝…能放得很高，所有人，无论男女，都抓住风筝线，整个人类都会被送入太空，寻找另一个星球，每人都可以带一件物品，一棵玫瑰，一把小麦，或者一只刚出生的动物，有些人则带着人类所写的全部诗集，旅途会很长很长。
When the earth starts to burn, because it is scorched by the sun, humans will have to leave. Then, what history will call "The Great Migration" will happen. They will leave the countries where they live, each as best as they could, and they will gather again in the desert of the Sahara. There, a child will have released a kite, very high in the sky. Big and small will cling on to the cord, and all the humanity will fly away, in search of another planet. Each one will carry a small plant, a rose tree, a handfull of wheat, or a new-born animal. Others, all volumes of poetry, written by men...It will be one very, very long voyage...
我们越过边境，却留在这里，到底要穿过多少边境，才能安个家啊？
We crossed the border and we're always there. How many borders does one have to cross...to find himself at home?
终会有个夜晚，他渡河来接走我。
One night, he'll cross the river and come to take me away.