This is such bad news it's almost funny. What am I going to do in Bali now? I don't know exactly what I'd imagined it would be like to meet Ketut again, but I did hope we'd have some sort of super-karmic tearful reunion. And while it's true I had feared he might be dead, it hadn't occurred to me that—if he were still alive—he wouldn't remember me at all. Although now it seems the height of dumbness to have ever imagined that our first meeting would have been as memorable for him as it was for me. Maybe I should have planned this better, for real.
这坏消息简直逗趣。现在我在巴厘岛该怎么办？我不确定和赖爷重聚的情况如何，但我的确希望我们能有某种喜极而泣的团圆。我虽然曾经担心他可能过世，却没想过——假使他还活着——他一点也不记得我。尽管如今看来，想像我们的第一次邂逅对他就像对我而言那般令人难忘，是多么愚蠢的事。或许我早该设想到真实状况。

So I describe the picture he had made for me, the figure with the four legs ("so grounded on earth") and the missing head ("not looking at the world through the intellect") and the face in the heart ("looking at the world through the heart") and he listens to me politely, with modest interest, like we're discussing somebody else's life entirely.
于是我描述他画给我的那张图，有四条腿（“坚定地踩在地上”）、无头（“不能透过脑袋看世界”）、脸则位在心脏处（“用心观看世界”）的形象。他客气地听我说，带着适度的兴趣，好似我们在谈论他人的生命。

I hate to do this because I don't want to put him on the spot, but it's got to be said, so I just lay it out there. I say, "You told me I should come back here to Bali. You told me to stay here for three or four months. You said I could help you learn English and you would teach me the things that you know." I don't like the way my voice sounds—just the teensiest bit desperate. I don't mention anything about the invitation he'd once floated for me to live with his family. That seems way out of line, given the circumstances.
我不喜欢这么做，因为不想让他为难，但我必须说出来，于是摊开来讲。我说：“你告诉我说我应该回巴厘岛来。你告诉我在这儿要待三四个月。你说我能帮你学英语，你也会把你知道的事教给我。”我不喜欢自己有些绝望的语气。我并未提及他曾邀我与他的家人同住。在考虑到眼前的情况下，这似乎太越界。

He listens to me politely, smiling and shaking his head, like, Isn't it so funny the things people say?
他客气地听我说，微笑摇头，好像在说：“人们说的事可真逗趣”。

I almost drop it then. But I've come so far, I have to put forth one last effort. I say, "I'm the book writer, Ketut. I'm the book writer from New York."
我几乎放弃。但我远道而来，必须做最后一丝努力。我说：“赖爷，我是写书的作家。我是纽约来的作家。”

And for some reason that does it. Suddenly his face goes translucent with joy, turns bright and pure and transparent. A Roman candle of recognition sparks to life in his mind. "YOU!" he says. "YOU! I remember YOU!" He leans forward, takes my shoulders in his hands and starts to shake me happily, the way a child shakes an unopened Christmas present to try to guess what's inside. "You came back! You came BACK!"
出于某种原因，这成功了。他的脸突然亮起喜悦，变得清澈、纯粹而透明。他的心中燃起认出人来的光辉。“你！”他说，“你！我记得你！”他凑过来，双手握着我的肩，开始快乐地摇动我，好似孩子摇着未打开的圣诞礼物，想猜猜里头是什么。“你回来了！你回来了！”

"I came back! I came back!" I say.
“我回来了！我回来了！”我说。

"You, you, you!"
“你，你，你！”

"Me, me, me!"
“我，我，我！”