When I cut a cloud, a stream and a moon,
A trip to the mountains and rivers takes a year.
A moment of life,
A bodhi tree, a misty cloud.
Take a walk to see a flower,
Ferry to enjoy a lake of spring water,
From a city to a town.
Along the way,
Pack the idle clouds into your bag,
Carry the story on your shoulders,
Find the hometown that belongs to the soul.
But in a hurry
Often forget where you come from,
I don't know how to reply.
All the encounters in the world are reunions after a long separation.
At that time,
You are an ancient temple,
I am the green lantern;
At that time,
You are a fallen flower,
I am embroidered mother;
At that time,
You're cleaning stones,
I am a crescent moon;
At that time,
You are a strong man,
I am a good horse.
Buddha said that the five aggregates are empty,
But this world of mortals is always full of many predestinations.
Buddha enters the world of mortals,
The world of mortals is the Dojo.