Sing Cang Yang Jia CuO's love poems.

At that moment, I raised the wind and the horse not to beg for happiness, but to wait for your arrival. On that day, I built the Mani Pile, not for Xiu De, but to throw stones at the Heart Lake. That month, I shook all the prayer tubes, not to cross over, but to touch your fingertips. That year, I kowtowed on the mountain road, not to see you, but to see you on the road. That month, I closed my eyes and suddenly heard your mantra in the fragrant fog of the temple. I shake all the prayer tubes not only to touch your fingertips, but also to kowtow and crawl on the mountain road not to see you, but to climb over the mountains and turn to the pagoda to stick to your warmth, not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the road. That night, I listened to Sanskrit singing all night, not for enlightenment, but to find your breath. In that month, I turned all the prayer tubes not to cross over, but to touch your fingerprints. That year, I kowtowed and hugged dust, not to worship Buddha. Sticking to your warmth, I have searched hundreds of mountains in my life, not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the road. I rose to immortality, not to live forever, but to protect your peace and joy.