If you are a blue bird,
Even without powerful wings,
Will also dance blue wings,
At the bottom of the blue sky.
You're weird,
But in my heart,
Why not offset it?
Why are you so mysterious?
In my heart,
This fascinates me.
You're also looking for it,
Walking with lonely geese going north,
With the plum rain in the south of the Yangtze River?
I don't know.
But I know you are not a bird.
You don't rest on bodhi branches,
Know the furthest distance in the world.
You, invisible and intangible,
This is a blue bird.
This is a blue bird,
You, flying on the sacred bodhi tree.
Me, under the tree,
As if he were Sakyamuni,
Enlightenment Zen machine:
Some things are always with you,
But it is always undiscovered and not cherished;
Some things are not accidental,
Nor is it a miracle;
Some people believe in perseverance.
Suddenly, it all became chaotic.
What are you really like?
This is desire, this is love,
Or is it a dream that is hard to pursue?
Wake up like a dream,
Everything is calm.
A bluebird,
A bodhi,
Is it a mystery or the true meaning of happiness?
I hope this helps.