In the middle of his dream, an artist awoke. He reached for his pencil and started to draw. He started with a single dot. It took the artist hours to finish his picture, and afterwards he collapsed back into bed. Soon he was asleep again, still smiling from thoughts of what he had drawn.

藝術家從睡夢中醒來，拿起鉛筆，開始作畫。他從一個孤零零的點畫起，花了幾個小時才完成畫作，然后倒在床上。很快，他便再次進入夢鄉，腦海里想著他剛剛完成的畫作，臉上仍然盈滿了笑意。

The dot, on the other hand, was not as happy. It looked around the page and saw lines all around. They were long and colorful, and the dot was neither. "I don't belong here," it thought, "I am just a small, meaningless dot and this picture does not need me." So the dot jumped off of the page.

不過，那個點可沒這么開心。它環顧畫紙，發現周圍布滿了線條。那些線條又修長又亮麗，而點卻和這些一點都不沾邊。“我不屬于這里，”它想，“我只是一個渺小的點，無足輕重，這幅畫不需要我。”于是它就從畫紙上跳了出來。

It approached a newspaper that was lying nearby. There were dots all over the newspaper. "Surely this is where I am meant to be," it said aloud. As soon as the dot hopped onto the front page of the newspaper, all the other dots started to yell. "You cannot stay here!" they said. "Why not?" asked the dot. "You are dots, and you are here." "We are not dots," they said, "we are periods, and we belong in books, and stories, and newspapers. You are just a dot." The dot felt silly, so it left the newspaper. Then the dot saw a white cube with dots on every side. "This is where I belong," it thought to itself. "Excuse me," it said politely to four dots sitting on a side of the cube, "I am a dot and you are dots, so may I join you?"

它走向旁邊放著的一張報紙，上面布滿了圓點。“顯然這才是我應該待的地方。”它大聲說。但就在它一跳上頭版的位置時，其他點就立刻開始嚷嚷了起來。“你不能待在這里!”它們說。“為什么不行?”點問，“你們也是點，你們不也待在這里嘛。“我們不是點，”它們回答說，“我們是書、小說和報紙上的句點，而你只是一個點。”點自覺愚笨，就離開了報紙。接著點又看到了一個白色的立方體，每一面都布滿了小圓點。“這才是屬于我的地方，”它暗自想著。“打擾一下，”它彬彬有禮地對其中一面的四個點說，“我是一個點，你們也是點，我能加入你們嗎?”

"No, you may not," said the four dots. "We are dots on a pair of dice. An extra dot would ruin a pair of dice." The dot felt silly again and hopped over to the artist who was sound asleep.

“不，不行。”那四個點答道，“我們是一副骰子上的點。多一個點這對骰子就沒用了。”點再次覺得自己愚蠢無比，就跳到了正在熟睡的藝術家那里。

"I wonder why he drew me ..." thought the dot. And that's when it saw dots on the artist's hand and arm. "Perhaps this is where I was meant to be," said the dot as it crawled onto the artist's hand and rested.

“我想知道他為什么要畫我??”點思忖著。就在這時，它看到了藝術家手臂上的那些點。“或許這才是我應該去的地方。”點一邊說著，一邊爬到藝術家手上，安頓了下來。

"Ahem," said one of the dots on his arm. "AHEM!" said the arm dot even louder. "You are not a freckle. You are a dot, and only freckles belong here." "Aren't freckles a type of dot?" asked the dot, who was not feeling welcome anymore.

“嗨，”藝術家胳膊上的一個點說話了。“嗨!”胳膊上的點提高了嗓門。“你不是雀斑。你是一個點;只有雀斑才能待在這里。”“難道雀斑不是一種點嗎?”覺得又受到了冷落的點問。

"Yes, we are," said the freckle, "We are a special kind of dot, and you are definitely not one of us." The dot did not know what to do. It didn't belong with lines, or periods, or dice, or freckles.

“是，我們是點。”雀斑說，“但我們不是普通的點，而你確實不屬于我們。”點有些不知所措。它不屬于線條，也不屬于句點、骰子和雀斑。

The artist woke up at that very moment and went to look at his picture, but he was heartbroken by what he saw. He held up the drawing and sighed. "Where has my seed gone?" he cried.

就在這時，藝術家醒了。他起身去看他的畫作，但是眼前的一切令他傷心欲絕。他拿起畫，嘆息不已。“我畫的種子怎么不見了?”他喊道。

"This is supposed to be a picture of a seed in the soil before it grows into a mighty tree, but without the seed, it is useless, and I cannot draw another so perfect as I did the first time," said the artist sadly.

“這幅畫是種子長成參天大樹前在土壤里的情景。但現在種子不見了，這幅畫也就毫無意義了，而且我再也畫不出像第一幅畫這樣完美的作品了。”藝術家傷心地說。

The dot began to feel silly one last time. It had not realized that all along it was not just a dot, but also a seed. A seed may start off small, but there's no telling how large it will become, how many beautiful leaves it will grow, and how many people will find shelter under it.

點最后一次覺得自己無比愚笨。它一直沒有意識到，原來自己一開始就不僅僅只是一個點，而且還是一粒種子。種子在初期也許是渺小的，但是誰也無法預言它會長多大，會生出多少美麗的葉子，又會有多少人在下面納涼。

The dot jumped back onto the page. It jumped onto the exact spot it had left because it knew that, although it was just a small dot, it meant much more in the big picture.

點跳回畫紙上，回到了它當初離開的地方。因為它明白了：自己雖然只是一個小小的點，但是在這幅巨作中卻意義重大。


 

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