上面有野兽和神灵，墙壁很明亮。孩子的头，俯身在书本色的架子上，慢慢地斜着，收集着食物，盲目地优雅地移动着……然而在壁画上，灰色眼睛的人，捕捉着晨雾，抓住小英雄的头发，用神和孩子的舌头低语，末日的话语，像黎明一样普遍，却像黎明一样被露水染白。孩子们的哭声对人来说就像蟋蟀的叫声，饱含着温暖——但把手指伸进法夫尼，尝一尝，他们所有的话语都像偶然和痛苦一样平淡。他们的故事充满了巫师和食人魔因为他们的生活是:变幻莫测的无限，就像父母一样，没有人能逃脱，除非靠运气或魔法;既然力量和智慧都是无用的，善良也好，愚蠢也罢，等待某种力量的感激，事物的潮流。同时阅读……像狗一样在书架上寻找，寻找草，找到一种治疗所有孩子疾病的方法从前有一只狼觅食，一只老鼠警告，一只熊骑着一个男孩。我们男人，唉!狼，老鼠，熊。 And yet wolves, mice, bears, children, gods and men In slow preambulation up and down the shelves Of the universe are seeking ... who knows except themselves? What some escape to, some escape: if we find Swann's Way better than our own, an trudge on at the back Of the north wind to -- to -- somewhere east Of the sun, west of the moon, it is because we live By trading another's sorrow for our own; another's Impossibilities, still unbelieved in, for our own ... "I am myself still?" For a little while, forget: The world's selves cure that short disease, myself, And we see bending to us, dewy-eyed, the great CHANGE, dear to all things not to themselves endeared.