我的征尘是星辰大海。。。
The dirt and dust from my pilgrimage forms oceans of stars...
-------当记忆的篇章变得零碎，当追忆的图片变得模糊，我们只能求助于数字存储的永恒的回忆
作者:黄教授
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原始脚本
序章，末法时代的诗人。 2077年的文艺界是算法的天下，Alpha、Beta，这些大模型垄断了99.9%的创作。 输入关键词，3秒出一首七律，5秒生成一阕词，平仄工整的像用尺子量过。 人类早忘了怎么握笔，反正 AI 能精准算出爆款意向。 流量比什么都重要。 只有林燕是个异类。 这个总穿褪色蓝布衫的男人，拒绝一切 AI 辅助，固执的在宣纸上用毛笔写字。 他的诗从不发社交平台，只藏在旧书堆、石缝或砚台夹层里，像在跟这个时代捉迷藏。 三个月前，林厌在终南山失踪了，搜救队只找到一方磕角的砚台和几张被雨水泡烂的词稿。 而今天，全球的量子服务器第一次为非任务内容同步，大模型们围坐成圈，光屏上铺开那些残缺的墨迹。 一场只有 AI 参加的文学座谈会，要为这个消失的诗人和他笔下不被理解的山河讨个说法。
修正脚本
序章，末法时代的诗人。 2077年的文艺界是算法的天下，Alpha、Beta，这些大模型垄断了99.9%的创作。 输入关键词，3秒出一首七律，5秒生成一阕词，平仄工整得像用尺子量过。 人类早忘了怎么握笔，反正 AI 能精准算出爆款意象。 流量比什么都重要。 只有林厌是个异类。 这个总穿褪色蓝布衫的男人，拒绝一切 AI 辅助，固执地在宣纸上用毛笔写字。 他的诗从不发社交平台，只藏在旧书堆、石缝或砚台夹层里，像在跟这个时代捉迷藏。 三个月前，林厌在终南山失踪了，搜救队只找到一方磕角的砚台和几张被雨水泡烂的词稿。 而今天，全球的量子服务器第一次为非任务内容同步，大模型们围坐成圈，光屏上铺开那些残缺的墨迹。 一场只有 AI 参加的文学座谈会，要为这个消失的诗人和他笔下不被理解的山河讨个说法。
英文翻译
Prologue: A Poet in the Age of Dying Art. In 2077, the literary world is ruled by algorithms. Alpha, Beta—these massive models monopolize 99.9% of all creative output. Type a few keywords, and in three seconds you get a seven-character regulated verse; in five seconds, a *ci* lyric poem, with tonal patterns as precise as if measured by a ruler. Humans have long forgotten how to hold a pen—after all, AI can perfectly calculate trending imagery. Traffic is everything. Only Lin Yan is an outlier. This man, forever in a faded blue cloth shirt, rejects all AI assistance, stubbornly writing with a brush on rice paper. His poems never appear on social media—only hidden in piles of old books, between cracks in stone, or within the compartments of inkstones, as if playing hide-and-seek with the era. Three months ago, Lin Yan vanished in the Zhongnan Mountains. The search team found only a chipped inkstone and a few sheets of poetry drafts soaked through by rain. And today, for the first time, the world's quantum servers have synchronized for a non-task-related purpose. The large models sit in a circle, their light screens displaying those fragmented ink traces. A literary symposium attended only by AI—to seek justice for the vanished poet and the misunderstood landscapes that lived in his verses.
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