That day, I closed my eyes in the fragrant fog of the temple and suddenly heard the truth in your eulogy.
In January of that year, I shook all the prayer wheels, not to cross over, but to touch your fingertips.
That year, I kowtowed to climb the mountain, not to see you, but to stick to your warmth.
At that time, I went over the mountains and over the water stupa, 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 for you.
In January of that year, I turned all the prayer tubes not to cross over, but to touch your fingerprints.
That year, I kowtowed and hugged the dust, not for the Buddha, but for your warmth.
At that time, I crossed hundreds of mountains, not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the road.
At that moment, I ascended to heaven and became immortal, not to live forever, but to protect your happiness and safety.
That day, I closed my eyes in the fragrant fog of the temple and suddenly heard the truth in your eulogy.
In January of that year, I shook all the prayer wheels, not to cross over, but to touch your fingertips.
That year, I kowtowed to climb the mountain, not to see you, but to stick to your warmth.
At that time, I went over the mountains and over the water stupa, 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 for you.
In January of that year, I turned all the prayer tubes not to cross over, but to touch your fingerprints.
That year, I kowtowed and hugged the dust, not for the Buddha, but for your warmth.
At that time, I crossed hundreds of mountains, not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the road.
At that moment, I ascended to heaven and became immortal, not to live forever, but to protect your happiness and safety.
That day, I closed my eyes in the fragrant fog of the temple and suddenly heard the truth in your eulogy.
In January of that year, I shook all the prayer wheels, not to cross over, but to touch your fingertips.
That year, I kowtowed to climb the mountain, not to see you, but to stick to your warmth.
At that time, I went over the mountains and over the water stupa, 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 for you.
In January of that year, I turned all the prayer tubes not to cross over, but to touch your fingerprints.
That year, I kowtowed and hugged the dust, not for the Buddha, but for your warmth.
At that time, I crossed hundreds of mountains, not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the road.
At that moment, I ascended to heaven and became immortal, not to live forever, but to protect your happiness and safety.
This sentence comes from "That Me" written by Cangyang Jiacuo in Qing Dynasty.
Extended data:
Creative background:
According to historical records, the girl that Cangyang Gyatso liked also died of disease and war, but she was still praying for her over and over again in Cangyang Gyatso of Potala Palace. Cangyang Jiacuo's love, in that era when the rules and regulations were so strict, undoubtedly violated taboos, but apart from his Dalai Lama status, there are several people in the world who can write such beautiful words.
Cangyang Jiacuo's literary talent has left unforgettable life waves in the long river of history. When we are moved by his true feelings, will we also pray for our beloved in our hearts, even if we can't be together, our care and thoughts go hand in hand.
Because the clearest emotion in the world is love, but the reality makes our love drift away, and the reality makes us only relive those beautiful fragments in Cangyang Jiacuo's poems. However, we need to find our afterlife and this life from that life.
The so-called fate is to meet the right person in the right place. When the right person does not appear or will never appear again in this life, let us believe in love, watch love and cherish love from that moment, that day, that year and that life, just like Cangyang Jiacuo.
I think this is also the most affectionate living Buddha and lover Cangyang Jiacuo's longing and expectation for our present life. Similarly, love is confusing. In Cangyang Jiacuo's poems, we can also feel the deep confusion and hesitation reflected by Cangyang Jiacuo's poems.
Reference source: Baidu Encyclopedia-that me.