"8:49 this morning "8:49 this morning "8:49 esta manhã The dew of morning still glistens on the salt grass that grows along the foundation of the old lighthouse. I isn't in active service anymore, but has been renovated to serve as a private dwelling. High in the tower inside, a young man is slumped on the floor in the corner of the room, apparently in some kind of trance. Somebody has put a blanked over him. He is deadly pale, but the steady, almost imperceptible rise and fall of his chest shows that he still clings to life. Standing next to him are young woman and an older man. Both are obviously shocked and distressed. Their frequent glances toward the door give the impression that they're waiting for someone who is yet to arrive. On the wall next to them is a blackboard covered with impenetrable mathematical equations. The older man is holding a crumpled piece of paper - it appears to be a note scribbled in haste by an unsteady hand. What follows here is the story of what happened." The dew of morning still glistens on the salt grass that grows along the foundation of the old lighthouse. I isn't in active service anymore, but has been renovated to serve as a private dwelling. High in the tower inside, a young man is slumped on the floor in the corner of the room, apparently in some kind of trance. Somebody has put a blanked over him. He is deadly pale, but the steady, almost imperceptible rise and fall of his chest shows that he still clings to life. Standing next to him are young woman and an older man. Both are obviously shocked and distressed. Their frequent glances toward the door give the impression that they're waiting for someone who is yet to arrive. On the wall next to them is a blackboard covered with impenetrable mathematical equations. The older man is holding a crumpled piece of paper - it appears to be a note scribbled in haste by an unsteady hand. What follows here is the story of what happened." O orvalho da manhã ainda brilha na grama de sal que cresce ao longo da fundação do antigo farol. Eu não está em serviço ativo mais, mas foi reformado para servir como uma residência privada. No alto da torre no interior, um jovem está caído no chão, no canto da sala, aparentemente em algum tipo de transe. Alguém colocou um apagado em cima dele. Ele é mortal pálido, mas o aumento constante e quase imperceptível e queda de seu peito mostra que ele ainda se agarra à vida. Ao lado dele é jovem e um homem mais velho. Ambos são, obviamente, chocado e angustiado. Seus olhares freqüentes em direção à porta dar a impressão de que eles estão à espera de alguém que ainda está para chegar. Na parede ao lado deles é um negro coberto com equações matemáticas impenetráveis. O homem mais velho está segurando um pedaço de papel amassado - parece ser uma nota rabiscada às pressas por uma mão trêmula. O que se segue aqui é a história do que aconteceu. " [Teacher] [Teacher] [Professor] Will we ever understand Will we ever understand Será que algum dia entender This complex genius This complex genius Este gênio complexo This visionary thinker This visionary thinker Este pensador visionário Will we ever get this close again Will we ever get this close again Será que algum dia chegar tão perto novamente Uniting the forces Uniting the forces Unindo as forças Of our universe Of our universe De nosso universo [Girl] [Girl] [Girl] Will we ever understand Will we ever understand Será que algum dia entender His isolation His isolation Seu isolamento Or his sense of wonder Or his sense of wonder Ou o seu sentimento de admiração Will we never get this close again Will we never get this close again Será que nunca chegamos tão perto novamente It's been too long... It's been too long... Já faz muito tempo ... I think he's gone I think he's gone Acho que ele está desaparecido