I use words to record the hometown of my dreams, a place like the paradise Tao Yuanming described. Ink washes into the inkstone as I sketch drifting cooking smoke. Light footsteps disturb the weary boat at anchor. Spring in my palm gradually grows more beautiful. I gaze back, my eyes full of countless joys. The years flow by like water, yet I can't bear to leave. This book takes everyone into the rural life of the author's imagination.
Time didn't wait for me. It forgot to take me along. In my left hand are fireflies I can remember at a glance; in my right is a long meditation lasting ten years. If you don't want me, please leave me, but leave your traces behind...
I look up at the sky. The world we cannot return to is called home. Water flows thousands of miles to the sea. If you achieve greatness, don't forget your roots. A tree that grows a thousand feet tall never forgets its roots. May those whose hearts have changed never forget where they came from.
