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20世紀30年代，四名西方人闖入了神秘的中國藏區，經歷了一系列不可思議的事件。這部書是終造就了西方乃至世界的“世外桃源”。這里有神圣的雪山，幽深的峽谷，飛舞的瀑布，被森林環繞的 寧靜的湖泊，徜徉在美麗草原上的成群的牛羊，凈如明鏡的天空，金碧輝煌的廟宇，這些都有著讓人窒息的美麗。純潔、好客的人們熱情歡迎著遠道而來的客人。這里是宗教的圣土，人間的天堂。在這里，太陽和月亮就停泊在你心中。這就是傳說中的香格里拉。

世界文學名著（英文版）

它是藏語心中的日月；
　　 它是漢語世外桃源；
　　 它是英語遙遠而迷人的地方；
　　 它雪峰傲視、山谷靜謐、廟宇輝煌；
　　 它安詳、神秘，萬物生靈，引得無數人踏路追尋。
　　 它就是傳說中的——Shangri-La……
　 　在這里，太陽和月亮就停泊在你心中——Shangri-La香格里拉。

- ONE -
　　DURING THAT THIRD week of May the situation in Baskul had become much worse and, on the 20th, Air Force machines arrived by arrangement from Peshawar to evacuate the white residents. These numbered about eighty, and most were safely transported across the mountains in troop-carriers. A few miscellaneous aircraft were also employed, among them being a cabin machine lent by the Maharajah of Chandapore. In this, about 10 A.M., four passengers embarked: Miss Roberta Brinklow, of the Eastern Mission; Henry D. Barnard, an American; Hugh Conway, H. M. Consul; and Captain Charles Mallinson, H. M. Vice-Consul.
　　These names are as they appeared later in Indian and British newspapers.
　　Conway was thirty-seven. He had been at Baskul for two years, in a job which now, in the light of events, could be regarded as a persistent backing of the wrong horse. A stage of his life was finished; in a few weeks time, or perhaps after a few months leave in England, he would be sent somewhere else. Tokyo or Teheran, Manila or Muscat; people in his profession never knew what was coming. He had been ten years in the Consular Service, long enough to assess his own chances as shrewdly as he was apt to do those of others. He knew that the plums were not for him; but it was genuinely consoling, and not merely sour grapes, to reflect that he had no taste for plums. He preferred the less formal and more picturesque jobs that were on offer, and as these were often not good ones, it had doubtless seemed to others that he was playing his cards rather badly. Actually, he felt he had played them rather well; he had had a varied and moderately enjoyable decade.
　　He was tall, deeply bronzed, with brown short cropped hair and slate-blue eyes. He was inclined to look severe and brooding until he laughed, and then (but it happened not so very often) he looked boyish. There was a slight nervous twitch near the left eye which was usually noticeable when he worked too hard or drank too much, and as he had been packing and destroying documents throughout the whole of the day and night preceding the evacuation, the twitch was very conspicuous when he climbed into the aeroplane. He was tired out, and overwhelmingly glad that he had contrived to be sent in the maharajahs luxurious air liner instead of in one of the crowded troop-carriers. He spread himself indulgently in the basket seat as the plane soared aloft. He was the sort of man who, being used to major hardships, expected minor comforts by way of compensation. Cheerfully he might endure the rigors of the road to Samarkand, but from London to Paris he would spend his last tenner on the Golden Arrow.
　　……