The wind passes, tugging at the candlelight.
I dance with no one as an audience,
only petals drifting in the wind.
Sealed all that of the past,
turning it into a beautiful dream.
Now love has exiled me,
I heard someone once said⁠—
Dream is an escape... Is that so?

A great sage once said,
'A journey of a thousand miles
begins beneath one's feet.'
I say,
'A journey of one foot
begin with one's intention.'

Dream is a bubble,
easily burst from a light touch.
At time, I forget I am a guest in my dream,
A host and a guest;
In control yet not,
bizarre yet naught,
unexpected yet forgot.
Life too, is a dream,
a very long dream indeed.

Fate is a thread,
the breadcrumbs that never fades.
Sometimes, it's best to relaxed,
let that thread guides you.
Only fate knows where the thread ends,
you are simply a visitor guided by its invitation.

Time is an adventure.
It carries us regardless of our willingness.
The past is  memory,
present is memory.
Future?
I stopped, then continued,
The future is the untold story.

My body is well,
the mind dwells,
yet the heart is swelled.

clang. clang.
The metal sung joyfully each strikes.
Passion is a dancing flame.
The greatest passion can churn
the sea.
Yet it can also fade like flickering embers.
A passion, can leave behind lasting debris.

Today, I was sick.
The doctor said there was nothing wrong,
yet returning to the pavilion lake,
rains accompany my wakes.
A swelling sensation stuffed my chest,
I can't help but lay down and closed my eyes.

I saw a monk stopped by.
He had heard of my question before,
so he gave me an answer.
Rock is karma.
I asked him to explain,
but he smiled and left.

Rock is cause, and effect!
An amusing traveler answered with a smile.
Letting out a chuckle, I asked how so?
Reaching his hand for a rock from the street,
He rolled, it stopped after a moment.
He looked at me in the eyes, then walked away.
It was then, I understood.
Exerting force upon it, causes it to roll.
Where it lands, is effects…
Sowing a seed incurs cause.
Returning next summer, a sprout took its place.
⁠— this is effect.

Waiting at the crossroad,
I’ve met countless travelers.
Shaking my head from disappointment,
They could not answer my question.
— What is a rock?

Tears of moon…
A single drop to poison the ocean,
Alluring charms that drown many men.
Why must you veil yourself
Behind clouds?
Laying here with opened window,
The clouds swayed.
A pity, your words are too far away.

I can let go of my memory,
but not my sorrow.
I can let go of my past,
but not my mistakes.
Mistakes are made,
stakes are created,
Fixing my mistakes,
or lower the stakes?

Sigh. All things part.
Friends, where are they now?
Returning to eastern stream,
My turtle friend has long departed life.
Strolling the street,
My friend had become a craftsman.
Back in the capital,
My friend had become a merchant.
Standing here where it all began,
I can only watch their path split apart.

At times, I wish to be a rock.
When the wind ceases, it ceases.
When the wind moves, it moves.
It stops when it stops,
Move when it moves.
A slight push carries it countless distances.
What is more free than a rock?
That, I do not know.

A thousand year of times,
Southern river has since dried,
Dynasty long gone,
Worldly goods no longer remains,
Only fragmented memories of the ancient.
What was a blink of an eye,
Is a thousand-year below...

The heaven is far,
Yet the earth is naught.
Standing at the edge of the world
To witness the heaven and earth;
The earth is an immovable bed,
Yet heaven is a boundless net.
Alas, where my path goes,
Heaven's gaze is there.
Where my foot tread,
Earth is there.
I am simply a fish caught in a net...

Crossing the eastern stream,
I met a friend.
His shell, hard as he slowly
traverse across the water.
Crouching down, I asked him.
Oh turtle, why do you move so slow,
Yet never stop inching forward?

Standing by the gate to admire green grass view,
I saw a traveler passing by.
Not knowing where she came from,
Her question startled my heart.
Answering my doubt,
She handed me a wine jar.
Not looking at her departing back,
I smiled and took a gulp.
Today, I made a friend.

Tonight, someone shed tears,
Only I know,
For our stubbornness has landed us here.
My heart, drenched in distress,
The world seemed colorless.
Fortunately, She is still here.

Why?
Sitting by my desk, I asked.
Intoxicated by unwillingness,
there was bitter down my cold body.
On the desk, there was a petal,
there was no telling where it came from.

Drunk, I rise and approach the moon in the lake,
There was a peony.
Amidst a solitary night, bound by sorrow,
I Inquire the peony.
For whom do you shed your petals and leaves,
for whom do you bloom?

Taking a stroll through the mountains with my friend,
We saw a peony, its petal glitter in specks of snow,
Buds that were the blossoms of springs.
That day we questioned the flowers,
But the flowers do not speak.
Alas, our questions remained unanswered.

Wine, a drink to some, a comfort for others.
The mind is drunk, yet the heart is not.
It’s a source of medicine to forget one's sorrows for a long while,
Yet to many, a poison to numb the heart.
Recalling the melodic song looming over nightfall breeze,
My sorrow slowly eased.

Opening the window, I watch the bird depart
With a heart.
They say distant heart tend towards like places,
Yet my heart drifts with no traces of paces.
When the heart drifts,
So does the spirits.
Travelling a thousand miles,
I hope it finds its replies.

We bid each other farewell beside the hill,
Alas, the sun has flees.
Feeling the withered petal from plum blossom trees,
In spring, the grass will return,
But will my friend return?

When the heart move,
the world does too.
Closing my eyes,
Is the world still here?
Closing the world eyes,
Am I still there?
Open eyes is truth,
Closed eyes is false.
Is my eyes truth,
Or is the world's eyes false?

In eastern hill, the lake is murky,
sky wearing crimson colour flurries.
There're rumors of a mysterious sage
Who could answer many worries.
I find I'm crowded full of parting's feelings,
Alas, he does not wish for healing.

Tonight, the moon is far,
A beautiful petal, perching behind the mist.
Sitting by the pavilion lake with a wine jar,
I reached for the reflection as my spirit drift.

Beneath a willow tree,
Death ask Life,
“Why is it that they avoid me?”
To that, Life smiled and whispered to his ear.
“Because you are the painful truth.”

The sky is long, the road is far, wind and snow blow straight.
Dangling white specks of snow unfolded gracefully,
Yet home is naught when the dust flutters.
Just like a fishing boat in the rain,
Destination is just another
rest-stop.

Sitting ashore, I offer my friend a cup of wine,
I ask what place he is headed to.
To my regret, there is no-one to hear.

Some say that life cannot be controlled by oneself,
for it is within the grasp of Fate, and Time.
I laughed!

Laugh, because I can’t resist.
Laugh, because I can’t resist..
Laugh, because I can’t resist...

You ask for where my destination is,
I smile, but not answer,
My heart is at leisure.

A man on his boat,
Just like an immortal.
His melodic aged voice sung,
“Up is heaven, down is earth,
Where the wind blows,
Is where I go.”

Fragrant earthy scent, the sweet morning dew.
Last night was ephemeral, ethereal, and lonely.
Melodic splash,
‘Oh how it soothes one's heart’.
The scent of the mist left me hazy, like a lost traveler;
My gaze, distant and blurred.

The rain may shatter the silence, but not my loneliness.

A sip of wine, sadness begone…
Absented, contemporary sorrow bygone…
Memories and rain,
What’s the difference?

Forming of the droplet, is life.
Reaching Earth, is death.

Life is like this, a falling raindrop…
Obstacles are the wind,
Exerting influence on the falling droplet;
Few can reach the earth…
Many get lost amidst their journey...

Look further, memories are countless rain drops.

Oh how the splashing of the rain soothes one’s heart.
Yet, Indulging oneself in rain,
It’s hard not to get drench.

Oh how the moment of the past soothes one’s heart.
Yet, Indulging oneself in moment of the past;
It’s hard not to drown.

Below the mountain, a merchant cart approach.
With four wheels, it moves to one city, then returns.
Amidst storms, and rocky path, it carries someone;
resembling a mortal lifetime journey...

People lives, no different from a falling droplets of water,
a fleeting moment.
It’s formed, fall, then finally burst;
Returning to the earth.
Sorrow, bitter, and sweetness, contained in such a small drop...

My hand’s cold, stressed body filled with relic of the past;
Placing down a wine cup in hand, I sighed.
“When will the next storm arrive?”

The vastness of the universe;
Inconceivable!
A drop of water within the ocean;
Unrecognizable!

Above calm ocean surface;
a drop of water can cause ripples;
For how long does this ripple last?

Above the earth surface;
a mortal brought changes;
For how long does this change last?

Humans, no different from weeds in the mountain fields;
Mountains, no different from stray rocks on earth;
Earth, no different from rolling marbles in the constellation;
Constellation; no different from willows branch in the universe!

Such greatness!
Myriad laws weave Ten Thousands Things within the great universe;
No living can escape the laws;
No dead being can escape the laws;
Nothing can escape the laws!

Swift was dusk, reminding people how time flies by quickly before one realized.
Their world was separated,
two boundaries that could never met,
as was fated by heaven itself.

Slip from the crack of the boundary,
The two illusionary figures collide.
Stretching across the land,
White flakes cover every nook and cranny,
Their figures were like two magnets attracted toward one another.

She knew of his name that was covered in blood.
He had walked a path filled with corpses,
the murderer who slaughtered millions with his sword.
Looking at him from a distance, she laughed.
Nothing was needed to be said,
for words were meaningless to the both of them than the look they gave to each other.

The country is broken, though hills and rivers remain,
In the city in spring, the grass and trees are thick.
Chaos, like oil mixing with water, order is not to be anchored.
Enemy, are many;
Peace is few.
In this world, my enemy is numerous as clouds,
Are you willing to accompany my path?

Her smile was the blooming spring that would be coming.
Somehow, she had always believed in him.
He would never fail her.
If he walked the path filled with obstacles, then she would accompany him!

Alone in the northern lands,
The two of them burrow their feet in the earth,
Hands held gently against one another as they faced each other.
A tranquil solemnity befalls on the place,
as all of nature was to witness the soon unity of the couple,
Far from the turmoil of the world.

First, Prayer to the heaven and earth present to witness their love.
As if signifying their presence,
The earth shook, the clouds cleared.
Their heads held high, and their gaze locked onto each other.

A bow to Heaven and Earth,
This bow is as surreal as a dream.
First thanking Heaven for bestowing conformity upon the two of us,
Allowing me to meet you among billions of people,
Till white-haired yet never parted.

A bow to Heaven and Earth,
Kneeling love and hate into dust,
Before kowtowing the earth, permitting a place of quietude for the both of us.
let us imagine the world hatred as congratulatory,
In the end, neither of us owning the other anything,
This life, this moment,
There are only the twos of us.

And the final bow to Heaven and Earth,
the last to represent that they would stick through thick and thin,
a bow to each other,
Immemorial promises to remind each other that they are one yet not, alone yet together.
Their conviviality was sent as a prayer to Heaven and Earth,
coveting their thoughts for peace,
And may it last forever more, under the eternal heaven.

If not this life,
In the next life,
May we meet again.

One step… Two steps… Three steps....
So small, yet I feel lost.

Standing still, my feet moved one step backward;
Why?
Your silhouette was standing here;
Where have you gone?

Chasing you, I took the 2nd step;
Why?
Your silhouette was standing here;
Where have you gone?

Going back one… Going back two…
Fixing my steps, I took the 3rd step forward;
Why?
Your silhouette was standing here;
Where have you gone?

...

Three steps… Two steps… one step…
So small, yet I feel lost.

Standing still, my feet moved one step forward;
Why?
Your silhouette was standing here;
Where have you gone?

Chasing you, I took the 2nd step;
Why?
Your silhouette was standing here;
Where have you gone?

Going back one… Going back two…
Fixing my steps, I took the 3rd step backward;
Why?
Your silhouette was standing here;
Where have you gone?

In the temple amid storms, I met you,
By the balcony, I heard you several times.
It was that time of spring,
The cherry blossoms bloom, foretelling its youth.

Oblivious, for I follow the path of ascetic,
The Ten thousand things began to dull in your presence.
Cold, and desolate, my heart has long hardened,
Loving too deep, sadness is too much.

The flowers that fall only left the vibrant river flowing downstream until the end of summer.
The beauty of nature, are of the past;
Inebriate, Indulging in little of what was left;
Our meeting, witness by the heaven above, and earth below,
This moment, can it last forever?

Life is a dream, very difficult to keep for a long time.
Taking the willow branch when I miss you at the temple;
Love sick is such a wine jar.

Lean on the balcony to feel the love melancholy;
My back is turned, only to remind me of your departure.
After getting drunk, when the dream is still there, you have long left.
Sleepless all night to miss someone faraway,
The quiet autumn has long passed;
I still await your returns.

The world isn’t peaceful, chaos and order;
like water and oil.
There are a lot of wrinkles on the face.
Outside the temple, cold white speckles rested effortlessly;
My breath has long drawn and hoarse.
The people dine with their loved ones;
Alone in this temple, I recall the dreams once again...

In the temple amid storms, I met you,
By the balcony, I heard you several times.
It was that time of spring,
The cherry blossoms bloom, foretelling its youth.

Oblivious, for I follow the path of ascetic,
The Ten thousand things dulled in your presence.
The beauty of nature, are of the past;
Inebriate, Indulging in little of what was left;
Our meeting, witness by the heaven above, and earth below,
Can it last forever?

The fruit of love, bitter shell yet sweet flesh;
One can’t help but take a bite.
The ground is hard, and cold;
Our meeting was ephemeral.

Outside, the storm is not kind,
Alone in this temple, no trace of your existence remained;
Was it just a dream?
The flowers have long withered,
River frozen, no longer flowing downstream.
Was winter always this dreary?
Gazing at the spot you once sat;
Time flicker like dying embers.

Before long, the cherry blossom bloom once again;
Yet the bud in my heart remained unmoved.
The blossoming flower, river flowing downstream amid spring;
Above, the firmament was clear.

Turning my back to see the returning sparrows;
Your figures were nowhere to be seen.
Intoxicated, Indulging in little of what was left,
My dream has long withered.

My knees kneeled at the gate of the temple as the countless nights passed;
Oblivious as my memories slowly disassembled.
Your promise of that summer, I can no longer recall,
The words you once murmur are now faint, and incoherent.
The heaven pitied, but cannot interfere;
The earth comforts but cannot disobey in fear.

Love is a dream, very difficult to keep for a long time,
Once gone, cannot be returned.
There are a lot of wrinkles on the face,
Opposite of the vibrant forest laying before my eyes.
My breath has long-drawn, immemorial moment unfamiliar to the self;
I still await your returns, alone in this temple...

Human greatest fear, is the unknown.
To not know, or unknown, is to not grasp.
Humans fear what they cannot control.
Death, is human greatest fear.

Under heaven, no mortal can resist death.
A king would be overthrown;
An emperor would rot;
The world extinguish;
The stars dim;
Such is death!

Death, tiny yet holds an endless profound mystery.
It cannot be held, cannot be touched, cannot be seen.
The dead cannot speak;
The living cannot see.
How could the living see the dead that cannot speak?

Death is the mother of life.
Close, yet so distant;
For deaths give birth to life;
Life, then give birth to death.

Death is the cause, life is effect.
Life is cause, death is effect;
Causality, difficult to grasp.

Mortal, who bears the spirit of the living;
cannot grasp deaths.
Mortal, who bears the spirit of the dead;
cannot grasp life.

Heaven lent you a soul, Earth will lend a grave;
All debt is paid without seeking to repay.
The samsara of life and death,
Who can escape?

The soul, are to return to heaven;
The body, are to return to earth;
Who can resist?
The evil is dreaded by men but not heaven;
Evil and right, no different in its eyes.

Down hills, sounds of wagon treading through the harsh road from departure;
it echoes amidst a quiet noon.
Above the warm and mellow sky, speckles of whites flutters, leaving behind gray-silver feathers.
The birds, once again, spreading their wings;
Leaving behind their home and travel east with leisure.
Seeking food and laying eggs for the next generation.

Commoner watches the brittleness of life fading away;
Preparing for winter as the leaves shed gray;
Paving the path for newly sprouted leaves when spring returns.

Chill, gentle mellow, soft blanket of hues embrace the living, and dead.
The children would be sent as errand-boy;
Helping their parents stock up supplies for the cold winter to come.
All year round of hardship, amount to little as they faced the imminent harsh season.

Not long, the street was emptied with none in sight.
On withered willow branches, a birch chirp, signifying that autumn has begun.

Gazing at the empty street, the window shut from the outside.
The quietness of autumn, strangely soothes one’s mind.
Not a voice nor sound was heard, as if heavens has lowered the curtain wide;
Deafening the land.

Living up north, the chill winds easily subdue one’s will.
Looking into a home, a wife was preparing a meal;
The husband would tend the fire, and take over heavy-duty tasks.
Their gaze wavered as they soon yearn for the coming of spring.

Faraway, a crisp, orange willow flew from its branches;
Landing on the ground below.
With a breath, gentle breeze embrace the willow with grace;
Carrying it thousands of miles away.

Facing hardship, the misfortune are bound to perish;
The lucky individuals are to be rewarded.
Such, is the bitterness of life as ones cherish;
For the four seasons are ever-changing.