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Everything is self-aware, everything is known in the heart, the moon waxes and wanes, the tide rises and falls, ups and downs are the only way to achieve peace.

There is no end to the tranquility, and it will go as it pleases. The evening breeze blows on the boat, and the flower path enters the mouth of the stream. At night, I turned to the west ravine and looked across the mountain to the south. The smoke in the pool is flying and melting, and the forest moon is low and backward. When things happen and spread, I would like to be the old man holding the pole.