困囿于立锥之地中，你会绝望地抵抗那些带着点玄学的东西：物质不见了、平衡有了味道、眩晕从四面八方涌来，心底生出暗黑的欲望，想要重回地面，哪怕是坠落。
Prisoner of a morsel of space, you will struggle desperately against occult elements: the absence of matter, the smell of balance, vertigo from all sides, and the dark desire to return to the ground, even to fall.
这种头晕目眩的感觉正是高空走钢索的刺激之处，但那并不是我所害怕的。
This dizziness is the drama of high-wire walking, but that is not what I am afraid of.
在经历了长时间的高空行走训练后，会出现一个时刻，即所有的困难都不存在了。
许多走钢丝的人正是在这样的时刻送命的。
但在这样的时刻我依然不感到害怕。
After long hours of training for a walk, a moment comes when there are no more difficulties.
It is at this moment that many have perished.
But in this moment I am also not afraid.
如果某种练习在排练时令我产生抵触，且这样的抵触与日俱增，最终令我难以为继，我就会找一种别的练习来暂代——以防在表演时被恐慌给攫住。
我以一种狡猾的、偷偷摸摸的方式来靠近它。
但我一直都想着要坚持，想要感受征服困难的骄傲。
尽管如此，我有时也会放弃努力。
但我这样做不带任何恐惧。
我在绳索上从不害怕。
我无暇害怕。
If an exercise resists me during rehearsal, and if it continues to do so a little more each day, to the point of becoming untenable, I prepare a substitute exercise – in case panic grabs me during a performance.
I approach it slyly, surreptitiously.
But I always want to persist, to feel the pride of conquering it.
In spite of that, I sometimes give up the struggle.
But I do so without any fear.
I am never afraid on the wire.
I am too busy.
可你的确有害怕的东西。
我能从你的声音里听出来。
But you are afraid of something.
I can hear it in your voice.
那是什么呢？
What is it?
有时候绳索周围的天空变暗了，起风了，绳索变冷，观众渐渐担忧起来。
在这样的时刻，我会听到恐惧向我发出尖叫。
Sometimes the sky grows dark around the wire, the wind rises, the cable gets cold, the audience becomes worried.
At those moments I hear fear screaming at me.
设想有一天晚上我将不得不放弃绳索，我将无奈地说出，"我很害怕，我遇到了神圣的恐惧，它侵入我的躯体吸我的血"——我，那个脆弱的高空行走的人，人类中最渺小的那个，将转过脸去藏起眼泪——啊，一念及此，我是多么害怕啊。
To imagine that one evening I will have to give up the wire, that I will have to say, "I was afraid, I met Holy Fear, it invaded me and sucked my blood" – I, the fragile walker of wires, the tiniest of men, will turn away to hide my tears – and yes, how afraid I am.
在地面上我号称自己不知道任何恐惧，我没说实话。
我会带着自嘲承认自己怕蜘蛛也怕狗。
因为我认为恐惧源自知识上的缺乏，所以对我而言要克服这些愚蠢的恐惧很简单。"最近我太忙了，"我会说，"但当我认定该消除我对某些动物的厌恶时——无论它们有太多条腿或没什么腿（蛇也不是我的朋友），我很清楚该怎样处理。"我会读科学报告、看纪录片、去动物园。
我会采访放牧蜘蛛的人（世上有这么一行吗？）以搞清楚这些生物如何进化、如何狩猎、如何交配、如何睡觉，以及最重要的，什么能让这种毛茸茸的、吓人的野兽感到害怕。
这之后，我就会跟詹姆斯·邦德一样，就算有一只塔兰图拉狼蛛在我的小臂上跳塔兰台拉舞，也能表现得泰然自若了。
On the ground I profess to know no fear, but I lie.
I will confess, with self-mockery, to arachnophobia and cynophobia.
Because I see fear as an absence of knowledge, it would be simple for me to conquer such silly terrors. "I am too busy these days," I'll say, "but when I decide it's time to get rid of my aversion to animals with too many legs (or not enough legs – snakes are not my friends, either), I know exactly how to proceed." I will read science reports, watch documentaries, visit the zoo.
I will interview spider-wranglers (is there such a profession?) to discover how these creatures evolved, how they hunt, mate, sleep, and, most importantly, what frightens the hairy, scary beast.
Then, like James Bond, I won't have any problem having a tarantula dance a tarantella on my forearm.
恐惧的身体语言
The Body Language of Fear