I gave up the chance to become an immortal. Just for the warmth of the world.
I look back at the sky. Do you think the sky is red clouds or my flame? !
Which life is the end? Knowing the outcome but unable to say goodbye. Is it a fate or a nightmare that transforms into longing? Is it the ashes of my wings or the smoke rising from your kitchen? !
You can point out my persistence. I raised my head, and the transformed starlight in the western sky was the end of your reincarnation? So far away, yet so close that you can reach out and touch it. Which thought can be immortal!
Who is staring at my face in the next life by the Santu River, waiting for me, just to see that bright red face again? Who planted the mandala to let the memories of the past life sink deeply, and never want to be tied to it again?
How many five hundred years has anyone gone through in this world? Who waits for how much time the hourglass has passed?
Who accepted whose calamity?
Who becomes whose obsession? ? !
Phoenix, the most beautiful sacred animal in legend. It is said that he needed to be reborn from the ashes to achieve glory. And the same is true for human emotions.
The sun sets in the west, and the heartbroken people are at the end of the world.
Who, staring at this suspended water mirror, sighs dreamily. Lifting the tea lid lightly, whose eyes are blinded by the steaming water vapor? Whose eyebrows are stained by the green color everywhere?
In the clear breeze and clouds, deep in the sky, there was a Buddha's call, a sigh, long and euphemistic, and passed through the nine dusts. How many memories and feelings have been blown away.
Is it the sins of the past life or the consequences of this life? The fruit of this life?
Transforming into the starlight in the western sky is the end of your reincarnation,
How much time has passed from the hourglass of death to eternity.
You stared at my face in the next life by the Santu River,
I planted Mandala to let the memories of my past life sink deep.
How many partings do it take to ignite the flame of the sycamore branch?
How many five hundred years have I passed in this world?
Who can remember the past when Mandala flowers bloom?
Who accepted whose calamity and who became whose obsession! …