There are love, just not together.
Life and death come abruptly, what a pity.
We are passerby between mountain and river;
We live and we die, nothing more.
Apr 7, 2024
Apr 7, 2024 at 10:57 PM UTC
People are no different from the changing seasons.
Like a blooming petal in spring;
One instant, a moment to blossom.
Facing cold rain and wind;
They melt like snow in autumn.
So, how could I judge the heart of people?
Even loved ones must die;
Meeting strangers is like stepping on puddles.
It's strange you are now far like the sky.
So I ask, is it you leaving, or am I muddled?
At times, I wish you stayed.
To dwell in old times is like licking empty bottles.
Now night feels no different from day.
Try as I may, memories are like novels.
Mar 5, 2023
Mar 5, 2023 at 6:19 AM UTC
To live is to experience tribulation.
How can there be rainbow without rain?
To live is to experience mortal dusts.
How can there be rain without water?
To live is to experience life's rust.
How can there be rust without metal?
To live is to achieve happiness.
How can there be happiness without sad things?
Feb 26, 2023
Feb 26, 2023 at 5:36 AM UTC
Life have my heart drenched;
In what, I do not know.
Often I feel lonely; like branches laying on shallow water.
When the water is muddy, it’s difficult to see my heart;
When it pulse, ripples arise.
The moon is my sole partner;
Yet extending my hand — like life, illusionary.
Water paved where we stand,
Like sand, time drips through our grasp.
We as people are no different from common grasses.
Jan 21, 2022
Jan 21, 2022 at 10:38 PM UTC
Life has it agenda,
First then second, finally third.
Remind ourselves that memory are faint history;
To let history replay for the future to unfold.
Time weld life into death; so is death to life.
Here I stand, where it all started;
Gazing back, life was once better.
Ultimately, departure is inevitable;
Where else can one go without longing?
Longing are fleeting calling;
Appeared like faint snow, disappeared with one blow.
Jan 19, 2022
Jan 19, 2022 at 10:30 PM UTC
The world is but a single step,
A hundred step a minute;
People live with miseries.
Heaven is as clear as history;
Therefore, I use heaven as a mirror.
To portrait those that suffer,
Those who worries,
And those who bear so sorrow,
How many can live so carefree?
Your heart are troubled;
Yet my heart says otherwise.
In the end, where you find sorrow;
I find happiness.
Life is all about perspective;
Those who live suffer;
Those who suffer will live;
Life is suffering.
Dec 12, 2021
Dec 12, 2021 at 4:49 AM UTC
Trouble, good o’ friend;
Have you come to visit me once again?
I passed the streets, walking through paved stones;
Looking through stalls as people dance.
Like dusking eve, blown where life shown;
In solitude, in dismay, I am not at home.
For who have you come for, if not my lone heart?
The clouds downpour, life is like a dart.
People drift along like dripping blood;
I find blood easy to dry, yet a longevity of stain.
Smear myself in cold blood, my attire continues changing.
If only, if that, if then, good o’ friend;
Must you only live by if?
Oct 24, 2021
Oct 24, 2021 at 12:20 AM UTC
Tea leaves ever-reaching,
Between willow and lake,
A reflection of the past.
Grass flake, wind strides,
Rustling my heart, life has passed.
You have come, whom mind to grasp?
Ink is numb, painting never lasts.
Silver blossom flower shed tears;
Are you here?
My painting incomplete, Ink where?
Your meal to eat, life once again repeats.
The gate is neat, Chang’an never closer;
Heaven open like sheets, Earth is not sober.
Aug 11, 2021
Aug 11, 2021 at 5:17 PM UTC
Heart burdened, the river turns.
The bed is unmoving, curtain remains closed.
Autumn leaf dance, sun hidden, moon peek;
What is it that heaven seeks?
Tomorrow, I head to Chang’an,
Tonight, I take a sip of wine.
Sun rested, cold wind echoes;
My wine cup has shattered…
Tonight, I can’t take a sip of wine.
My mind drift far between rivers;
Dazzling among the night sky;
I find my heart unable to rest.
Sun has now dawn, my body is feeble;
Withered like ashen embers;
Today, I can’t head to Chang’an.
In the end, Man proposes and Heaven disposes.
Aug 10, 2021
Aug 10, 2021 at 5:36 PM UTC
Skipping stones along spring river,
One, two, three — finally touching lone pavilion.
Beneath my feet lie petite sprinkle of flowers.
Clear willow branch brushing against my shoulder,
the clouds shriek, heaven downpour, earth sorrow,
man can no longer borrow.
Our wine-cup has long grown old,
promise has long been sold.
On my last breath,
I skip these stones, where our promise last postponed.
Jul 4, 2021
Jul 4, 2021 at 2:42 PM UTC