Because he thought the son of God was the king of Israel, he was crucified.
The soldiers dressed him in purple robes and jingguan to celebrate; And he took a reed and beat him on the head, spat on his face, and knelt down to worship him. After teasing, he took off his purple robe and still wore his own clothes.
Look, they hit him on the head, spit on him and worship him. ...
He refused to drink wine adulterated with myrrh. He wants to think clearly about what the Israelites have done to their son of God, and sympathize with their future more permanently, but hate their present.
All sides are hostile, pitiful and cursed.
Tintin thought that the nail tips penetrated from the palm, and they wanted to kill their son of God. Kind people soften his pain. Tintin thought that the nail tip penetrated from the instep, broke a bone, and the pain also penetrated into the heart. However, they killed their son, but cursed people, which made him feel very comfortable.
The cross was erected; He hangs in the void.
He didn't drink the wine adulterated with myrrh. He wants to think clearly about what the Israelites did to their son of God. He sympathizes with their future more permanently, but hates their present.
Passers-by insulted him, and the chief priests and scribes mocked him, and so did the two robbers who were crucified with him.
Behold, he who was crucified with him ...
All sides are hostile, pitiful and cursed.
In the pain of hands and feet, he pondered the sorrow of the poor people crucifying the son of God and the joy of the cursed people crucifying the son of God and the son of God about to be crucified. Suddenly, the great pain of fracture penetrated his heart, and he was immersed in great joy and pity.
His abdomen fluctuated, and there was a wave of pity and curse.
It was dark everywhere.
"eloy, eloy, Rama Saba, all the people? ! "My God, why did you abandon me? ! 〕
God abandoned him and he finally became a "son of man"; However, the Israelites even crucified the Son of Man.
Those who crucify the Son of Man are bloodier and bloodier than those who crucify the Son of Death.
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hope
My heart is very lonely.
However, my heart is safe; No love or hate, no sadness or happiness, no color or sound.
I'm probably getting old. My hair has turned white, isn't it obvious? My hands are shaking, isn't it obvious? Then my soul's hands must be shaking and my hair must be pale.
However, this was many years ago.
Before that, my heart was full of blood songs: blood and iron, flame and poison, recovery and revenge. And suddenly these are empty, but sometimes they are deliberately filled with helpless self-deception hopes. Hope, hope, use this shield of hope to resist the empty night, although it is still empty night behind the shield. However, this is the case, which has exhausted my youth one after another.
Didn't I know my youth was gone? But I think the youth outside is fixed in: stars, moonlight, stiff butterflies, dark flowers, ominous words of owls, tears of cuckoo's blood, faint laughter and dance of love. ..... Although it is sad and ethereal youth, it is youth after all.
But why are you so lonely now? Is it that even the youth outside the body is gone, and the youth in the world is getting old?
I have to think about this empty night alone. I put down the shield of hope, and I heard petofi Sando's Song of Hope (1823-49):
What is hope? It's a prostitute:
She bewitched everyone and gave everything;
After you sacrificed a lot of precious things-
Your youth-she will abandon you.
This great lyric poet, a Hungarian patriot, sacrificed 75 years for his motherland on the spear point of Cosac soldiers. It's sad to die, but it's even sadder that his poem is not dead.
But what a miserable life! As brave as petofi, I finally stopped at night and looked back at the vast East. He said:
Despair is futile, just like hope.
If I have to drag out an ignoble existence in this "illusion", I will still look for the sad and ethereal youth that passed away, but I might as well be outside. Because if the youth outside my body disappears, the twilight inside my body will wither.
However, there are no stars and moonlight, and there are no frozen butterflies, so that the smile becomes slender and love dances. However, young people are safe.
I had to come to an empty night alone. Even if you can't find youth outside, you should throw away your old age yourself. But where is the night? Now there are no stars, no moonlight, no faint laughter and love dance; Young people are safe, but there is no real night in front of me.
Despair is futile, just like hope!
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snow
The rain that warms the country has never turned into a cold, hard and brilliant snowflake. Well-informed people think he is monotonous. Does he feel unhappy? The snow in Jiangnan is very beautiful. That's the news of youth that is still looming, and it's the skin of a very strong virgin. In the snowfield, there are blood-red camellias, single-petal plum blossoms with dark green in white and wintersweet with dark yellow chin; There are cool green weeds under the snow. Butterflies really don't exist; I really can't remember whether bees come to collect honey from camellia and plum blossoms. But my eyes seem to see flowers blooming in the snow in winter, and many bees are busy flying. I can hear their buzzing sound.
The children cried their little hands, red with cold, like ginger with purple buds, and seven or eight of them got together to make snow arhats. Because it was unsuccessful, whose father also came to help. Lohan is much taller than a child. Although it's just a big pile, it's still unclear whether it's a gourd or a arhat. But it is very white and bright, and the whole land is bright with its own water. The children made his eyes with longan seeds and stole rouge from his mother's powder and put it on his lips. This time it's really a big arhat. He just sat in the snow with burning eyes and red lips.
The next day, several children came to see him and asked him. By the way, he clapped his hands, nodded and smiled. But he finally sat alone. Sunny days came to soothe his skin again, and cold nights turned him into opaque crystals. The continuous sunny days made him wonder what it was, and the rouge on his mouth gradually faded.
However, after the northern snowflake flies, it will always be the same as powder and sand. They will never stick together and scatter on the house, the ground and the hay. That's it. The snow on the house has already been digested because the fire in the house is warm. In addition, on a sunny day, a whirlwind suddenly came. It flew vigorously and gave off dazzling light in the sun, such as fog with flames, which whirled up and filled the space, making the space whirl up and flicker.
In the boundless wilderness, under the cold sky, the shining soul of rain is spinning and rising. ...
Yes, it is lonely snow, dead rain and the soul of rain.
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Lost hell
I dreamed that I was lying in bed, in a cold field, next to hell. The cries of ghosts are deep and orderly, which are in harmony with the roar of flames, the boiling of oil and the vibration of steel forks, causing ecstasy and great joy, and proclaiming three realms: peace in the world.
There is a great man standing in front of me. He is beautiful, compassionate and full of great brilliance, but I know he is the devil.
"Everything is over, everything is over! The poor devil lost a good hell! " He said bitterly, so he sat down and told me a story he knew-
"When the earth is honey-colored, it is the time when the devil overcomes the gods and masters the great authority that dominates everything. He took away the kingdom of heaven, the world and hell. So he went to hell himself, sat in the middle, glowing all over and saw all the ghosts.
"Hell has been abandoned for a long time: the sword tree has no light; The edge of boiling oil does not surge early; The fire sometimes just emits some smoke; The Datura flower in the distance has sprouted, and it is very small, pale and pitiful-this is not surprising, because the ground has been burned and naturally lost its fertility.
"Ghosts wake up in cold oil and fire and see the flowers of hell from the glory of the devil. They were pale and pathetic and cheated. They suddenly remembered the world and meditated for many years, so at the same time they voiced their opposition to the prison.
"Humans will answer, speak out, and fight the devil. The sound of war spread across the three realms, far exceeding the thunder. Finally, a great strategy was implemented, and the devil was forced to escape from hell. The final victory is that human standards have also been erected on the gates of hell!
"When the demons cheered together, the orderly hell roar of human beings was already in hell. He was in the middle, holding all the ghosts with the majesty of human beings.
"When the ghosts once again issued a cry against the prison, they became traitors to mankind, were punished by permanent destruction, and were moved to the middle of the sword forest.
"Man has completely mastered the great authority of hell, while Na Wei is above the devil. Humans then rectified their laziness and first gave the highest salary to Abang, the bull's head; Moreover, increasing wages and sharpening the knife will change the whole hell and wash away the decadent atmosphere before.
"Datura withered immediately. Boil like oil; The tongue is like a knife; As hot as fire; The ghost groaned and turned around, but could not remember the lost hell.
"This is the success of mankind and the misfortune of ghosts.
"Friend, you are in doubt me. Yes, you are human! I'm going to find wild animals and evil spirits ... "
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epitaph
I dreamed that I was facing the grave and reading the inscription on it. The tomb seems to be made of sand and stone, with a lot of peeling and moss, leaving only a few sentences-
"... fanaticism in the cold; See the abyss in the sky. I can't see anything in everyone's eyes; Free from despair. ……
"... a lonely ghost, turned into a long snake with fangs. Don't bite, bite yourself and eventually fall down. ……
"... leave! ……"
After walking around the village, I found the lonely grave, which had no vegetation and had been destroyed. That is, from the big bird's mouth, I saw a dead body with a broken chest and abdomen and no heart. On the other hand, there is no sadness or joy on the face, but it is misty.
I can't turn around in doubt, but I have seen the rest of the sentence on the dark side of the grave-
"... a hundred years of self-sufficiency, experience the original flavor. The wound is cruel, how can we know the original taste? ……
"... eat slowly after the painful decision. However, its heart is old, how can it know? ……
"... answer me. Otherwise, leave! ……"
I'm leaving. And the body of the dead has sat up in the grave, lips motionless, but said-
"When I turn to dust, you will see my smile!"
I hurried, afraid to look back, afraid to see him follow.
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