I will repay your three thousand years of love with three lifetimes of fate.
The blue sky falls into the world, the jade bones are dusty and smokey:
A song that lasts forever, sending me thoughts and notes;
Two lines of lovesickness stain the twilight and frosty sky.
I am originally a small candle that lights up in front of the Buddha. Over time, I have absorbed the Buddha nature and cultivated into a vague human form. Before ascending to enlightenment, I went down to the lower world to pay my debts as usual, but I was told that I needed to go through three lifetimes of separation and separation, just because I owed them three thousand years of care.
Going round and round, the cycle of origin and end, who owes whom in the end?