the other day
I closed my eyes in the fragrant fog of the temple.
Suddenly I heard the truth you sang.
January of that year
I shake all the curved pipes, not to cross them.
Just to touch your fingertips
That year
Kowtow to climb the mountain, not for the audience.
Just to keep your warmth.
Ina
Turning mountains into water is a stupa, not for repairing the afterlife.
Just to meet you on the road.
That moment
I don't raise wind horses for happiness.
Just waiting for your arrival
the other day
The Mani Pile was not built for Xiu De.
Just to throw stones into your heart lake.
that night
Listening to Sanskrit all night is not for enlightenment.
Just looking for your breath.
That moment
I am immortal, not for immortality.
Just to make you safe and happy.
That day, that month, that year, that life. ...
It's just, that night.
I forgot everything.
Abandon faith and reincarnation.
Just for the rose that once cried in front of the Buddha.
Has long lost its former glory.