Why has the pleasure of slowness disappeared? Where are all the people who used to hang out? Where have they gone, those wandering heroes sung in folk songs, those wandering among mills and windmills, sleeping soundly under the constellations? Have they disappeared along the country roads, along the grasslands and forest gaps, along with nature? A Czech proverb provides a metaphor for their gentle leisure: leisurely people are gazing at God's window. He who gazes at God's window is not bored, he is happy. In our world, leisure has been twisted into doing nothing.
What about those leisurely Nanshan and drunken Taibai artistic conceptions?
What about those words that are like ghosts and gods sighing in the valley?
What about those moods that are as light as water and as thick as ink?
What about those calm and eternal expressions?
What about those melodies that are refreshing and heart-melting?
What about those empires that are free to act as they please?
What about those cozy and carefree cabins?
What about those lively and tranquil feelings shared across the street?
Let them wait. One day I will go... But now I have chosen to be secular...