What is the most enduring thing in the world?
The direction of the flowing wind,
The vast ocean,
Or the unquenchable sacred fire?
If you yearn for all this but are confused,
Just listen to the singing of Alcona's harp,
It's like a sigh coming from the sky:
It is neither endless time,
It is not the joy and sorrow that always remain in my heart,
——The so-called eternity,
Just a forgotten and twisted afterimage.