Every time we meet, and
are celebrated as Epiphany,
the whole world just you and me.
You are agile and light, like the wings of a bird,
hurried down the stairs, stepping through two steps in one step.
You pulled me through the damp lilac bushes
to the other side of the mirror, your territory.
When night falls, I will be blessed by you,
the door in front of the altar is opened,
and our ketone bodies are bowing
softly in the dark night, emitting a soft halo.
I woke up and said "bless you",
I know this blessing is not suitable: because you are still in a dream.
Because you are still in a dream.
The lilac on the table came over and
touched your green misty eyes; the caressing eyes that
you enjoy it are
still quiet, and your hands are still warm.
A crystal, the river is leaping in it, the
mist-shrouded mountains are hazy in it, and the sea is foaming.
You hold the crystal ball in your hand and sleep peacefully in the throne.
God of integrity! you belong to Me.
You woke up and changed the language of the human world.
My throat was suddenly filled with new power.
When I said the word "you", I
found that it had a new meaning: "king".
In a trance, everything is changing.
We are being led, I don’t know where to go. A
fantastic city floats in front of us, like a mirage,
wild mint paving the way
for us, birds escorting us
, the fish in the water follow the
sky and open the curtain for us .
Fate is following in our footsteps
like a lunatic, brandishing a razor.
2.
Yesterday, I have been waiting since early morning, and
they guessed that you would not come.
Remember what a wonderful day it was?
Sunny as a holiday! I don't have to wear a coat.
Today, you are here, but the weather is
melancholy and dim
with rain, and it is late. On the
cold branches, the rain is flowing, the
words are difficult to soothe, and the Fangpa can not be dried.
Three
earthly life came halfway
I lost in the deep dark woods
four
I do not believe in omens
are not afraid of fierce elephant,
I never escape slander and hate,
the world is not dead,
everyone is immortal, everything all eternity.
Whether you are seventeen years old or seventy years old,
you don’t have to fear death. There is only truth and light,
no death and darkness.
Finally, we reached the seashore.
I am one of the netizens,
watching the "immortal" fish.
In a house that never collapses,
I want to call all the centuries,
call them in, and build my home together.
So, at my table,
your sons and daughters sit with your wives,
and your great-grandparents and great-grandchildren are together.
The future is doomed now, and
I gently raise my palm facing you,
leaving you with five rays of light.
With the shoulder bone as a support,
I lift up every passing day.
I used a folding ruler to measure time, and
I wandered in it, like walking through the mountains.
Compared with my own life, I intercepted a section of it.
The long grass blocked the way, and a wandering grasshopper
tapped my horse's hoof with its tentacles.
Like a monk, it predicted my death.
I took my destiny and tied it to the saddle;
I would ride my horse towards the future,
standing on the stirrup, I still look like a boy.
My immortality is enough, because
my blood has flowed through the vicissitudes of life.
I would like to give my life in
exchange for an eternal corner, safe
and warm, no longer let the flying needle of life be
drawn through the world, like a thread.
The five
have only one body, lonely and helpless. The
soul is tired of the shackles of this body. The
ears, mouth and the nickel coin-sized eyes
are covered with scars on the skin that wraps the skeleton.
So, passing through the cornea, it flew toward the sky,
toward the ropes of ice and snow, toward the chariot brought by the birds,
through the fence of the cell, it heard
the noise in the woods and cornfields, and The trumpets from the seven oceans,
a soul without a body is guilty, just like a naked body-
without thinking, there is nothing to do, without inspiration, there is no poem.
A mystery, there is never an answer:
Who can come back after dancing in a place where no one is company?
I dreamt of another soul, which has a strange dress:
it runs and burns, from suspicion to hope,
It is pure and transparent, like burning alcohol, fleeting...
Only the lilac on the table is left: it will last forever in memory.
Run, children, don't worry.
The fate of poor Eurydice,
drive your copper ring, and take it to the end of the world.
Every step you take, you will hear the response of the earth, and
your ears will echo, her cheerful and clear voice.
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