The dusk clouds are dimming, I look at the ruined building, and I'm lying in the broken courtyard. There are tens of thousands of green hills outside the courtyard, and clear and shallow springs flow under the steps. Crows are noisy in the pine corridor, rats are turning over the scripture boxes, and the monk is far away from the solitary cloud. The snake escapes from the empty beam, and the swallow returns to its old nest without returning.
The rise and fall of the six generations are pitiful, and the ambition of giving birth to public treasures has nothing to do with grudges. With the bodhicitta sword and halberd planted in his hand, he fell into the Sakyamuni wheel first. The history of Qing Dynasty ridicules and spreads jokes, but it is useless to be a man sitting on the fence. The sands of eternity are immeasurable, and the calamity of the human world is short.
"Niannujiao·Gaozuo Temple" Zheng Xie