The ocean is vast, the desert is vast, and the torrent can be heard ten miles away. It is difficult for the immortal tree to reach this point, and the lotus leaves cannot float. The fading grass and the setting sun flow over the winding pond, and the shadow of yellow clouds obscures the long embankment. Where are the merchants coming and going? Where has a fisherman ever lived?
Intention: Time is like a passer-by for generations