The heart of Yunshui Zen is in a state of mind, and the prose of enjoying the pure joy in the world of troubled times
A few people understand and understand a piece of Yunshui Zen. The moonlight is wandering and the flowers are fresh. Whose old dream lingers on the quiet shore of the water, and breaks a willow branch and cuts through your heart. There are many dreams and partings in the world of mortals. Playing the piano and sending messages to each other from afar. My thoughts are like smoke and my sleeves are dancing in the sky. Who is dependent on each other in my soul and dreams. The wind blows and the branches sway without a trace, where are the gathering and scattering? Destiny is not like dust, rolling down a few curtains of yarn. . . . . . ____Sha Zi’s inscription
In the early morning, a ray of light enters the poem, and when the pen is written, the worldly affairs of the world are lightly inscribed. How many times have I recalled that the shadows and prosperity are just fragments? How many times have I known that all kinds of wind and rain are due to fate, and how lonely they are when they come and go? Life passes by in a hurry, the beauty fades away, the romance is just passing by, and the wandering heart is left in the desert. Under the bodhi tree, the shadow of tears is reflected in the vicissitudes of life. Looking back across the sea, it has been thousands of reincarnations. Make a cup of something light, taste it slowly, hold a book of scriptures, and have a brief understanding of the world of mortals.
Time, broken steps, lightness, in the midsummer afternoon, step on a stone bridge, find a shade of trees, watch the white clouds flow by, the seasons change, the dreams of life, strands, ties, destiny Thousands of catastrophes have turned into countless dust, rising and falling with the wind, scattering into the emptiness. Tears are silent, love is speechless, hate is traceless, and hurt is boundless. The wind and rain are swaying the wine at dusk, and a bright moon shines on the dying years. How painful is obsession in this life? Misty and rain are infatuated and geometric. A wisp of memory dyes thousands of volumes of sadness, and a plain ink painting cannot reflect the vicissitudes of the world. However, it is hard to come back when flowers fall, and people are gone forever. In the end, one dream comes and one wakes up.
As time goes by, my heart never goes far; even though the world separates us, love never breaks. Some old things have settled into a cup of fragrant memories. When you open them, they still pass by tenderly, and tears stain your heart. A lot of time that cannot be returned is a clear sea, a warm dream, and life is imprinted at that moment. The road is moving forward, and the scenery is far away. In front of me, there may be brightness or sadness. A cup of tea, a book, an inkstone, and a green lamp will accompany me from now on, so I will not be lonely.
Flowers bloom and fall together, even if the world is far away, there is peace and warmth. Turning around, the world of mortals has been gone for a moment, how much bright eyes are filled with mist; how much true feelings, silent and lonely. The wind of the years blows through the clothes and blows away memories from the eyes. That season was prosperous and full of thoughts. There is always a Zen flower planted in the depths of life, which can calm the swaying heart and make the ups and downs of thoughts undisputed. In the troubled world, use a bowl of pure water to wash away the beauty and restore the innocence of the soul. No matter how much you are willing to give up or not, let go of it; no matter how many dreams or no dreams you have, you will all wake up. Close a heavy door, open a Prajna door, reflect under the Bodhi tree in front of the mirror, recite a scripture, and form a relationship with Buddha.
A word fate brings many encounters and partings; a word read brings many heartbreaks and tears. Cooking wine and tasting plum blossoms, banishing pious thoughts, a dream of forgetting the river will not last forever, only this life; a night of wind and flowers will never fall, only cherish it. The glitz and glamor of this world, how many fetters; fate is hard to break, how much desolation. Meeting is a joy, leaving is a sigh, the road that is getting farther and farther is difficult to look back, the world of mortals is an instant, the previous relationship ends, life is a wandering. In the shallow light years, I turn around and never see you again. Let's go and cherish it. One person, one dream, one happiness.
Time grows in the palm of your hand, your face grows older, your mood is indifferent, and there are no more disputes in the world. We are passers-by in this life, any trace of charm touches the heartstrings, and every thought slowly settles in the passing years. I like a simple life, getting up early, chanting sutras, observing Buddha, meditating, reading a volume of ancient poetry in my free time, painting a freehand painting, and feeling the light joy that life gives us. The world is like the wind. When the wind blows, people wake up, they gather and separate, and the mirror flowers and the moon are just a silence after the flowers bloom. There is no joy when the fate comes, but peace when the fate goes away. Rest your soul with a normal heart.
There is a tear that leaves no trace in the heart; there is a wound that is painless in the bones. After reading through the years, the old words burn my soul, how many vicissitudes of life, how many sighs, half a life in the mortal world, a bumpy life, one encounter, and eventually we become strangers. Life is so pious, but the scenery we pass by has become an irretrievable memory. The promises we once made are just a leaf of duckweed in our memory, drifting in the wind and passing away. I finally understand that the warmth of spring and the blooming of flowers are a passing process. The colorful moment, the short-lived prosperity, and the gorgeous light cannot last forever. Seize life, cherish the moment, let go of all thoughts, and feel peaceful.