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old willow May 2020
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.
old willow May 2020
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...
old willow May 2020
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.'
old willow Feb 5
Sitting at my desk, is a cup of coffee.
A sip to burn my tongue,
I feel at ease with warmth.
No longer do I ponder of truth
nor hearing any owl hoot,
the street that is an isle
is now not so wild.
old willow Oct 2020
Where my spirit goes, I longed.
Spiritless, my heart wander aimlessly.
In this faraway land, life persist.
Hatred, happiness, sadness are many,
yet the heart is one.
In the end, all stemmed from the heart.
Cold, but also warm,
sadness before happiness,
one is many; many is one.
old willow May 2020
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.
old willow Aug 2020
What is time in this desolate land…
Sitting by seashore, the world dimmed,
Sky greyed as the sea churned.
The flower once bloomed on mountain sides,
Now long withered, I know not when it blooms again.
Old age, I wait for its arrival.
old willow May 2020
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.”
old willow Sep 2020
I walk through life,
writing countless stories.
Surely of thousands stories,
a dozen would be deaths.
Plucking death from life;
is plucking seed from a fruit.

What is there to gain?
We say life have no reason, purpose, nor excuses.
So what say we live?

Plucking the seeds;
I witness countless threads.
From the bitterness of fate;
to the sadness of departure;
down to the solitary of loneliness.

I fear fighting those who have nothing,
those with nothing find comfort in death.
But... is death truly nothing?
Life is full, but emptied to the eyes of death;
Therefore, I tend to see life as nothing
and death as nothing;
ultimately, seeing through life and death.
old willow Dec 2020
Like clouds, like rain, like a dance, like fragments;
silver butterflies are converted breeze of stardust.
palace collapse, shrine ruined, covered in dust and dirt,
My river remain as dusk, valley remain unmoved.
A red string tied around fingertips;
one beginning representing life,
one end representing death;
forming reincarnation.
old willow May 2020
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.
old willow May 2020
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?”
old willow May 2020
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.
old willow May 2020
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
old willow May 2020
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.
old willow Mar 1
Be still toward one’s heart, not letting it control one’s body…
Be still toward one’s body, not letting it control one’s mind…
Be still toward one’s mind, not letting it control one’s heart…
Ultimately, all thing began from the heart.
As such, we must live and fashion our way to our heart.
To forgo all things...
Let time fly by, as a long time friend would.
Let life drift over our head, as the bird do.
Let the wind embrace us as we ***** the hill, as nature wield.
So long, so far, the Stillness of all things comes and go.
Life are borrowed, not owned…
When hollowed, we are simply paying back the debt we own.
Heaven cannot move me,
Earth cannot bend me,
as such, my heart is truly still.
old willow Aug 11
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.
old willow Sep 2020
Blood is thicker than water.
A drop of water can shatter the greatest hardness,
can blood do the same?
With blood as ink,
Water as canvas,
kingdom fell and rises.
Kinship is perpetual;
blood represent ill-omen,
and fortune.
old willow Oct 2020
When the river converge, there is the self.
The valley is the heart, water as thoughts.
As such, my thought flow through the valley;
forming a river of myriad dots.
Where the spring arrive, the river follows.
In the end, river return to river, water to ocean;
The ocean is the self.
Therefore, changing the self is changing the heart,
changing the heart is changing the thought,
The mountain is the world, behind river is mountain.
old willow May 2020
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.
old willow Feb 8
I dwell in this vast world.
Seeing loved one's passing through life.
Believe that my heart can soar above heaven.
Believed that my heart transcend heaven,
Yanking the soul of my people away,
Place them back on earth.
If my heart still lingers on earth,
How could I soar nine heavens above?
If my heart is above heaven,
Why would my heart desire mortal dust below?
Dust to dust, mortal dies,
let begone bygone, cleaning the dust off myself.
old willow Aug 2020
By the window, the lonely petals drifted,
so did my mind.
I dare not say I am virtuous.
Experienced humiliation, I obtain humbleness.
Live plainly, before lavishly.
Life often contradict itself,
look at death, therefore comprehending life.
old willow May 2020
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.
old willow Oct 2020
The rain embraced earth,
leaving behind morning dews and vigor.
Somewhere along the distant town, I hear an aged song.
Swirl swirl, I once roam the world.
Azure sunset, Tears of spring, The world once my mount.
Mountain thoughts, River heart, Valley self,
My River is dried, ocean emptied,
Simply a Drunken fisherman in the sunset.
old willow May 2020
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?
old willow May 2020
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.
old willow Oct 2020
Fisherman is earth, his net is life,
Fish is Man, Ocean is heaven.
Sway by the earth, we dwell in life.
Entangle in this life, Earth is now home;
Ocean is just an illusion.
The fish move where the net moves,
The net move where the fisherman goes,
The fisherman move where the ocean drifts,
Man who dwell in life only see his net,
not both the drifting fisherman and ocean.
old willow May 2020
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...
old willow May 2020
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?
old willow May 2020
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.
old willow May 2020
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.
old willow May 2020
My body is well,
the mind dwells,
yet the heart is swelled.
old willow May 2020
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.
old willow May 2020
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.”
old willow Jun 2020
A single step feels like thousand leaps.
The people are near,
yet sounds are not here.
Fear is near,
but people are nowhere here.
Alone, the fear is severe,
with no one here,
how can I cheer?
old willow Dec 2020
The time I drift, is when I find peace.
When in love, it's hard to find tranquility.
When in rage, it's difficult to reason.
Tranquility even when in love,
Reason in the midst of rage,
how many can?
old willow Feb 9
In life, I cross with red dust.
We are blades of grass, amidst war, we sway.
Visited by lustful desire, we succumb to its whisper.
Should I fight my desire?
Visited by sad news, we succumb to despair.
Should I fight my desire?
Mortal dust continue to drift, landing on my frugal body.
In the end, let them all come, greet them as sire.
Succumb to lust, to grief, to joy, to pleasure,
But let my heart abide - pay red dust no heed.
old willow Sep 2020
I enjoy the tangy of spring,
tasting plum wine as cherry blossom.
Eastern river is dried bamboo shoots,
a sweet yet melodic taste brings me home.
At the end of the river is where my heart lays;
a vast, endless ocean;
sadly, people only see fishes in little Ju lake;
the river behind the lake,
ocean behind river that's hidden.
old willow Feb 7
I fear many things.
Fear that one day, my loved one die.
Fear that one day, I leave them behind.
Fear that they one day leave.
When lonely, I fear none.
Karma long severe, I put no heed to life.
Walking in life once again,
they came back to me.
Once in my hand,
I fear that I will lose it.
old willow Dec 2020
From your eyes to the tip of my hair,
In a dusk filled with lantern;
There I sit.
Who knows, who seen, who can, who for.
Many times waking up from my dreams,
the world is not what it seems.
old willow May 2020
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.
old willow Oct 2020
Once a little swain, Time has passed.
Chaos and Order, like petal drifting lake;
An Emperor of the east.
A thought to move millions,
A finger to predestine the people.
At the end, The peak resemble my hometown,
People have move, merchant comes and goes;
A place carved from ancient painting.
Serving the people is my duty,
Earth Beneath, Heaven encompassing;
Jaded life is now willow in winter.
old willow May 2020
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...
old willow Feb 10
I open window to greet ashen sky,
A shy fellow he is, covered in misty clouds.
Laying in my bed, I douse myself In comfort.
Too comfortable… Watching bamboo spoon falling,
My finger too limped to react,
So I let it thump the floor.
old willow May 2020
The vastness of the universe;
A drop of water within the ocean;

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!
old willow May 2020
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...
Love is the sweetest fruit in this world...
old willow Oct 2020
Tides rise and fall, the moon up and down,
sun waking west and east,
Heaven and earth.
Aloof, not that the world is beneath me,
The heart yearn for freedom,
Therefore spirit became he.
Man yearn for the sky, but can only daze on earth.
Therefore, Sky became their heaven,
Beneath became their Earth,
and Man became... its witness.
old willow Aug 10
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.
old willow Sep 2020
Looking at the past, sorry is...
I seek not apology, nor forgiveness,
but silence.
To be born with no purpose,
is to be born without a meaning in life.
No purpose, no reason, no excuse,
as such, I live without regret.
old willow Sep 2020
What is meaning?
To be born with no purpose,
is to be born without a meaning in life.
Therefore, without purpose and meaning,
is without reasons.
How can there be excuse without reason?
That's why your purpose is to find meaning in a life,
a life that has no meaning.
perhaps that’s what makes life unknowingly so meaningful.
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