There is nothing wrong with everything, except that the branches grow wildly, the wheat waves surge, and without exception, the gods and Buddhas retreat, all things fall, and there is no immortality.
''That day you asked me why I was living like this, unable to live or die.''
"Why can't an ordinary poor and despicable person live like this? Why can't he"?
The new shoots blooming in the soil, ebb and flow, only need that glimmer of light to help them grow, climb up, and become immortal.
No one told her how to survive in this difficult world, no matter how dirty she was, no matter how dirty she was.
Intention: Branches and buds climb up to the light