"Early in the morning, the lamas gathered in the pine forest to chant Buddhist scripture, and the clouds filled the air, and Brahma sang Qingyuan as if it were natural. Above the lofty heaven, the Buddha said that heaven and man scattered flowers in order to admire the exquisiteness of Buddhism. In this quiet mountain forest, the gods are hidden in the mountain spring vegetation, and only the cuckoo tree shakes off the dew and produces soft and delicate flowers, expressing the simplest admiration for the unspeakable happiness brought by the profound texts of law. "
It turns out that this is the equality of all beings in Buddhism-one flower and one world, one leaf and one bodhi: our human world, the world of flowers, the world of birds, and even small ants and bacteria probably have their own worlds-think about it carefully and be afraid!
This kind of poem is not written, but grown. It is the poet's heart, which holds back the pain like a sick clam and wraps the heartbreaking grains of sand into pearls with blood and tears. Yes, people with stories will have such a sigh. I have had unforgettable stories. I am afraid to repeat or show off the stories I have, but I know it is cool autumn. Where were you just talking about the weather? Obviously, you can't help sighing and telling the whole story. -"The Heart History of Cangyang Jiacuo" Zhu Hong
Throughout history, poets can be said to have as many stars in the sky, but there is only one in Cangyang Jiacuo. I feel that I want to explore the road of his psychological history, which is tantamount to seeking a fish from the edge of a tree-yes, I can definitely see his own shadow mark from his works, but what is the difference between this and peeping at a leopard in a tube and a blind man touching an elephant? If it is not Mo Qiang's natural understanding, it is a good poem that can enter my heart!
Yidongshan
How to meet again after parting, sentimental spring water goes to a thousand pounds.
Looking up at the moon in Dongshan at night, I close my eyes and meditate on your face.
-(Qing) Cangyang Jiacuo? Poetry translation? Chan Sing
In the dead of night, only the bright moon is in the sky. For thousands of years, people have been willing to see the moon and think of the people in front of the jade plate in the sky. Spring water is still affectionate, but it has also passed away-isn't it the same for people?
The person who misses her day and night, her face is as clean and moist as moonlight, tall and straight. In fact, she must be in the heart of the man who looks at the moon. You see him slowly closing his eyes and reliving her voice and smile over and over again.
Er' nan bow
These buildings are all straw now, but they came last year.
I can't stay in a hurry, looking back at the loneliness of Nangong.
-(Qing) Cang Yang Jia CuO poetry translation? Chan Sing
An unremarkable field in the past, ridge by ridge, harvested, covered with straw. But it's here. I was here last year. Looking back at that time, accompanied by Qing, everything was full of vitality.
It is said that poetry is the product of loneliness. Who has the energy and mind to write a poem when you entertain yourself? Until those good times are over and there is nothing to do. In that smile, the lingering faint loneliness and sadness is the seed of poetry, which twists and turns, makes lush branches and leaves grow and bears countless beaded words.
Three? vigorous
It is said that Penglai has treasures, and the mortal world is only near the sea.
If you can get an old man in this life, you will get a treasure from the abyss.
-(Qing) Cangyang Jiacuo? Chen Xing? Poetry translation
(365 Extreme Challenge Day Camp Day 1 1 1 day)