Author: Ji Bolun
The arrival of the ship
Al Mustafa, the chosen lover, has been waiting in Falisse for twelve years, expecting his ship to welcome him back to the island where he was born.
In the twelfth year, on the seventh day of the "Lu Yi" month, he climbed a hill without a fence and looked out at the sea. He saw his boat emerge from the fog.
His heart was suddenly enlightened, and joy crossed the sea and overflowed into the distance. He gently closed his eyes and prayed in the silence of his soul.
When he walked down the hillside, a burst of sadness came to his mind. He mused in his mind:
How can I say goodbye peacefully without sadness? No, I can't leave this city without any mental trauma.
In this city wall, I spent many long and painful days and many long and lonely nights; Who can leave his pain and loneliness without attachment?
I have scattered so many fragments of my heart in this street and this alley. I have so many hopeful sons who have walked through one mountain after another naked. I can't abandon them without bearing heavy burdens and pain.
Today, I didn't take off my blouse, but I tore a layer of skin myself.
What I left behind was not my thoughts. But a heart sweet with hunger and thirst.
But I can't stay any longer.
The sea that calls everything is calling me, and I must get on the boat.
Because although time burns at night, staying means freezing and being forbidden to grow mold.
How I wish I could bring everything here to me, but how can I get there?
Sound can't take away the lips that give it wings, it can only look for the sky alone.
The goshawk can fly over the sun alone without carrying nest food.
He walked to the foot of the mountain and faced the sea again. He saw his ship approaching the port, and the bow was a sailor from his hometown.
So his soul called them and said:
Descendants of my ancient mother, you athletes who make waves,
How many times have you drifted in my dreams? Now you are driving into my sober mind, which is my deeper dream.
I'm ready to start, and my hope is to raise my sails and wait for the wind.
I just want to breathe this quiet breath again, and then take a deep look back.
Then I will join you, like a sailor in the water.
And you, the vast sea, the sleepless mother,
Rivers and streams promote peace and freedom,
When the water flows around another bend, the low temperature will appear again in the glade.
I will throw your kindness like an infinite drop of water into an infinite sea.
Walking, he saw men and women leaving farmland and orchards in the distance and running towards the city gate.
He heard them shouting their names, running in the fields and reporting the arrival of the ship.
He asked himself:
Is the moment of parting also the time of gathering?
Is my night really my dawn?
What can I offer to those who put down the plough and stop the brewing wheel?
Do you regard your mind as a tree and pick many fruits to share with them?
Or will you turn your thoughts into spring and fill the cups?
Is it a harp that strong hands can pluck, or a tube that they can wear when breathing?
A flute through my body?
I am a lonely person. What treasure have I found in loneliness that I can confidently pay?
If today is the harvest day, then in that forgotten season, in that land, I planted my seeds?
If it's really time for me to raise the lamp, it's not the fireworks I lit.
The lamp I held up was empty and dark,
The guardian of the night will oil it and light a fire.
He poured out these words, but there were still many unspoken words in his heart. Because he can't express deeper secrets himself.
When he returned to the city, people rushed to meet him. They called to him with one voice.
The old man in the city said:
Please don't leave us like this.
You will always be noon in our dusk, and your youth will lead our dreams into dreams.
You are not a stranger among us, nor a passer-by. You are our son, and we sincerely love him.
Don't make our eyes sad, because they are eager to see your face.
Male and female priests said to him:
Now please don't let the waves separate us, and let the years you spent among us become memories.
You are like an elf walking among us, and your figure is the brilliance reflected on our faces.
We have always loved you. But our love is silent and implicit.
Now she calls you and faces you openly.
Love doesn't know its depth until the moment of parting.
Others also came forward to keep him. But he didn't answer. He bowed his head and said nothing, and people around him saw tears fall on his chest.
He walked with everyone to the square in front of the temple.
A woman named Al metra came out of the temple. She is a prophetess.
He looked at her very tenderly, because it was she who followed him and trusted him on his first day in this city.
She congratulated him and said:
Prophet of God, in order to seek the ultimate, you have calculated the journey of your ship for a long time.
Now that the ship has arrived, you must leave.
You are so eager for the land in your memory and the place you are more eager for; Our love will not bind you, and our needs will not keep you.
But please talk to us before you leave and tell us the truth.
We will pass it on to our children and grandchildren, and they will pass it on to their descendants so that it will never be destroyed.
You observed our day alone, and listened to the crying and laughing in our dreams clearly.
So now please reveal yourself to us and tell us everything you know about life and death.
He replied:
People of Falisse, what can I say except what is stirring in your souls at this moment?
love
So Al metra said, Please tell us about love.
He looked up at the crowd, which was silent. He said loudly:
When love calls you, follow him,
Although his road is difficult and steep.
When he opens his wings and hugs you, follow him.
Although the sword in his wings will hurt you.
When he talks to you, trust him,
Although his voice will shatter your dreams, like the wind sweeping away the flowers in the garden.
Although love can crown you, it can also crucify you. Although he can help you grow, he can also mow the grass for you.
He will climb to your height and touch your softest branches trembling in the sun.
He will also descend to your roots, shake your roots and hold on to the earth.
Love gathers you around like ears of wheat.
He hit you and made you naked.
He screened you to get rid of bran.
He grinds you until you are innocent.
He kneaded you until you obeyed.
After that, he handed you over to the holy fire, so that you could become sacred cakes at the sacred feast of God.
All this is done by love for you, so that you may understand the secrets in your heart and become a small part of the heart of life.
But if you are just looking for the beauty and happiness of love out of fear,
Then you'd better cover your nakedness and leave the threshing floor of love.
Step into a world without seasons, where you will laugh, but not heartily; You will cry, but not all tears.
Love gives nothing but itself and brings nothing but itself.
Love does not possess, nor is it possessed;
Because love itself is enough.
When you love, you should say "I am in God's heart" instead of "God is in my heart".
Don't think that you can guide the direction of love, because love, if he thinks you are worthy, will guide you.
Love asks nothing but to be yourself.
But if you love, what do you want, let it be your wish:
Melt into a running stream and serenade yourself at night.
Experience the pain caused by too much tenderness.
Be hurt by your own love experience.
Bleed willingly.
When I wake up in the morning, with a flying heart, thank you for giving me another day full of love;
Take a lunch break and meditate on the ecstasy of love;
At dusk, go home with gratitude;
Before going to bed, pray for the love in your heart and recite hymns on your lips.
marry
Al metra asked again: What is marriage like, master?
He replied:
You are made for each other and will be together forever.
When the white wings of death scatter you, you should also be together.
Indeed, you have always been together, even in God's memory.
But in a party, you should keep your distance.
Let the wind in the air fly between you.
Love each other, but don't let love be a bondage;
Let love be the sea flowing between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's glasses, but don't just drink one glass.
Give each other bread, but don't just eat a piece of bread.
Sing and dance together, but keep their independence.
The strings of the lute are also separated from each other, although they tremble for the same tune.
Give your heart, but don't let the other person keep it.
Because only the hands of life can accept your hearts.
Stand together, but don't get too close;
Because the pillars of the temple are always separated from each other,
Oaks and conifers don't grow in each other's shadow.
children
A woman with a baby in her arms said, please tell us about children.
He said:
Your child is not your child.
They are children whose lives long for them.
They came through you, but not because of you.
Although they are by your side, they don't belong to you.
You can give them your love, but not your thoughts.
Because they have their own ideas.
You can build houses to cover their bodies, but not their hearts.
Because their hearts live in the house of tomorrow, even in their dreams, you have no chance to visit.
You can try to imitate them, but don't try to make them like you.
Because life will not go backwards and will not stay in the past.
You are bows, and your children are arrows of life.
The shooter aims at the target in an infinite journey and bends you hard, so that his arrow can fly fast and far.
Let you bend happily in the hands of the shooter;
Because he loves flying arrows as well as stabilizing bows.
agree
A rich man went on to say, please tell us something about giving.
He replied:
When you take out your property, your contribution is negligible.
When you give yourself, you really give.
Because isn't your property what you may need to possess and protect tomorrow?
And tomorrow, what can tomorrow bring to the dog that carefully follows the pilgrims and buries its bones in the desert sand?
What else do you need besides the demand itself?
When the well water overflows, isn't your fear of thirst inevitable?
Some people only donate a little property-they donate it for recognition, and their hidden desires make their gifts unattractive.
There are also some people who have very little, but have given all.
They believe in life and its gifts, and their cabinets will never be empty.
Some people give happily, and this happiness is their reward.
Some people yield in pain, and this pain is their baptism.
There are still some people who do not feel pain when giving, nor are they seeking happiness, nor are they giving goodwill;
They crossed the valley like myrtle.
God teaches through these people's hands and smiles at the earth through their eyes.
It is good to give when you are prayed, but the higher level is to give before others speak through observation.
For generous people, finding someone who is willing to accept gifts is a deeper happiness than giving.
What can't you give up?
One day, everything you have will be left to others;
So give now, and save the time for yourself, not your heirs.
You often say, "I will give money, but only to those who deserve it."
The trees in your orchard don't say that, nor do the sheep in your pasture.
Because of dedication, they will survive, and rejection will only bring destruction.
A person who is worthy of his day and night is undoubtedly worthy of everything else.
A man who is worth drinking from the sea of life is worth filling his glass from your stream.
What kind of virtue can surpass the courage to accept, trust and even sympathize?
Who are you that deserves people to tear open their chests and take off the veil of self-esteem, so that you can see their naked value and their innocent dignity?
First of all, see if you deserve to be a giver, a giving tool.
Because everything is a gift from life to life-and you, who regards yourself as a benefactor, are just a witness.
As for you beneficiaries-you are all beneficiaries-you don't have to bear the burden of gratitude, so as not to bind yourself or even the giver.
It is better to fly with the giver with a gift, just like having a pair of wings.
Because worrying about debt is to doubt the generosity of the giver who takes the earth as his mother and God as his father.
prescribe a diet
Then an old man, the owner of the inn, said, please tell us something about diet.
He said:
I certainly hope that you can live on the fragrance of the earth, just as plants in the air live on the sunshine.
But since you have to kill for food and snatch the mother's milk from the newborn calf to quench your thirst, let it be a way of worship.
Set up an altar in your case, make the innocence of forests and plains more innocent to mankind, and make sacrifices on this altar.
When you slaughter a domestic animal and poultry, you should say to it in your heart:
"Now the power to kill you will kill me, and I will be swallowed up.
"Because the law that sent you to my hand will send me to a stronger hand.
"Your blood and mine are just the juice that nourishes the tree of heaven."
When you chew an apple with your teeth, you should say to it in your heart:
"Your seed will live in my body,
"Tomorrow your buds will bloom in my heart,
"Your fragrance melts into my breath,
"You and I will spend every season happily."
In autumn, when you pick grapes from the garden to make wine, please say in your heart:
"I am also a vineyard, and my fruit will be picked and brewed.
"I will also pour it into the eternal container like new wine."
In winter, when you pour wine, please sing a song for every glass of wine in your heart;
Let this song remember autumn, vineyards and wine making.
labour
A farmer said, please tell us about labor.
He replied:
You work, so you can keep up with the earth and its spirit.
If you are lazy, you will become a stranger in the season and fall behind the ranks of life; The team moves towards eternity with solemn heroism and proud obedience.
When you work, you are a flute, and the whisper of time becomes music through your heart.
Which one of you wants to be a reed, and when everything sings in unison, only you are silent?
Someone always tells you that work is a curse and labor is misfortune.
But I want to say to you: when you work, you realize some of the farthest dreams on earth, which were assigned to you at the beginning of the dream formation.
If you work hard, you really love life.
To love life in labor is to know the deepest secret of life.
However, if you torture childbirth in your pain and say that keeping your body alive is a curse written on your forehead, then what I want to answer is that only the sweat on your forehead can wash away those handwriting.
Someone always tells you that life is dark. When you are tired, you repeat the words of the tired.
I said that life is really dark, unless there is desire,
All desires are blind, unless you have knowledge,
All knowledge is in vain, unless there is a job,
Unless there is love, all work is empty;
When you work with love, you will be one with yourself, others and God.
What is working with love?
It is to knit and sew clothes with the silk thread in your heart, as if your beloved is about to put it on.
Is to build a house enthusiastically, as if the person you love will live in it.
Sow with love and reap with joy, as if your lover will taste the fruit.
Is to inject the breath of your soul into all your products.
Realize that all the blessed dead are watching you.
I often hear you say in your dreams, "The man who carves marble and finds his soul image in the stone is more noble than the farmer who cultivates the land.".
"People who catch rainbows and paint people's images on cloth with rainbows are smarter than those who make shoes."
But I want to say-not in my sleep, but when I am particularly awake at noon: the voice of the wind talking to the tall oak tree is no sweeter than its voice talking to the slender grass leaves.
If a person can turn the wind into a song and make it sweeter with his love, then he is great.
Labor is visible love.
If you can't go to work with love and just feel bored, you might as well give up your job and sit in front of the temple, waiting for someone who enjoys working to give you alms.
If you don't bake bread enthusiastically, the bread you bake will be bitter and only half full.
If you squeeze grapes reluctantly, then your resentment will drop poison into the wine. If you can sing like an angel but don't like singing, then you block people's ears to listen to the sounds of day and night.
Joy and sadness
A woman said, please tell us about happiness and sadness.
He replied:
Lift the mask, and your happiness is your sadness.
From the same well full of tears, your joy welled up in your heart.
Isn't that right?
The deeper the scars of sadness are engraved on you, the more you can accommodate joy.
Aren't those cups that were once exercised in the Potter's fire, and now they are full of your grapes?
Wine?
Isn't it the tree that was once sharpened that is now Lu who soothes your hearts?
Secret service?
When you are happy, go deep into your heart and you will find that now brings you happiness.
Yes, it brought you sorrow at the beginning.
When you are sad, look at your heart again, and you will find that what brings you now is sadness.
Trouble is the joy that brought you at the beginning.
Some of you say, "There are more joys than sorrows." And others say, "No, sad.
Not just joy. "
But I tell you, they are inseparable.
They come together, and when one of them sits alone with you, remember that the other one is.
Sleep in your bed.
Indeed, you are like a balance that swings between sadness and happiness.
Only when you are completely empty will you be still and balanced.
When the treasure keeper uses you to weigh his gold and silver, he will inevitably need your joy and sorrow to rise and fall.
room
A bricklayer came forward and said, please tell us something about the living room.
He replied:
Before you build a house on the wall, use your imagination to build a gazebo in the wilderness.
Just as you have a destination at dusk, so should the distant and lonely wanderer in your heart.
Your house is your bigger body.
It grows in the sun and sleeps in the silence of the night. That sleep is not a dream. Are there no dreams in your room? Don't they want to stay away from the city and go to the forest or mountains?
I want to collect your houses in my hands and scatter them like seeds to forests and grasslands.
I hope the valley is your street and the green path is your alley. If so, you can visit each other across the vineyard, and your clothes will keep the fragrance of the earth.
However, this is difficult to achieve for the time being.
Out of fear, your ancestors gathered you too close. This fear will last for some time, and your wall will continue to separate your family from your land for some time.
Tell me, people of Falisse, what's in your house? What does the closed door guard?
Do you have peace, the calm impulse to show your strength?
Do you have any memories, the faint bridge connecting the peak of the soul?
Do you have beauty? Beauty is the guide to guide your thoughts from the land of wood and stone to the holy mountain.
Tell me, can you have these in your room?
Is there only comfort and the desire to pursue comfort-this sneaky thing entered the room as a guest, but became the master, and then became the head of the family?
Alas, it has become an animal trainer again, turning your greater wish into a doll of bait and whip.
Although its hands are like silk, its heart is like iron.
It lures you to sleep, just to stand by your bed and mock your physical dignity.
It laughs at your voice consciousness and puts them under thistle like fragile containers.
Indeed, the desire for comfort killed the soul's emotion, and it still grinned at the funeral.
But you, children of the universe, move in silence, and you should not be trapped or tamed.
Your room should not be an anchor, but a mast.
It should not be a shiny film covering the wound, but protect the eyelids of the eyes.
You shouldn't fold your wings through the door, bend down to avoid hitting the ceiling, and you shouldn't hold your breath for fear that the wall will crack and collapse.
You shouldn't live in a grave built by the dead for the living.
Even if your mansion is magnificent, you can't hide your secrets or your wishes.
Because you live infinitely in the heavenly palace, which takes the morning fog as the door and the singing and silence of the night as the window.
clothes
A weaver said, please tell us about clothes.
He replied:
Your clothes hide a lot of your beauty, but you can't hide your ugliness
Although you borrow clothes to seek the freedom of privacy, what you find is fetters and bondage.
Ties.
I hope you greet the sunshine and breeze with your skin instead of clothes.
Because there is a breath of life in the sun and a hand of life in the wind.
Some of you said, "It is the north wind that weaves the clothes we wear."
I said, yes, it's the north wind,
But it takes shyness as the loom and slender tendons as the yarn.
Once it finishes its work, it will laugh in the forest.
Don't forget that shyness is a shield against unclean eyes.
If there is no evil, what can shyness be except mental bondage and dirt?
Don't forget, the earth is happy to feel bare feet, and the wind is eager to play with your hair.
trade
A businessman said, please tell us something about business.
He replied:
The earth is full of fruits for you. If you don't understand, don't be as busy as a bee.
You should feel rich and satisfied when exchanging gifts from the earth.
But if this exchange is not carried out in a caring, kind and fair way, some people will be greedy and others will be hungry.
In the market, you people who worked hard in the sea, fields and orchards met weavers, potters and spice gatherers. ...
Then ask the master spirit of the earth to come to you and sanctify the weights and measures and pricing rules for you.
Don't let people who come empty-handed join your career, they will exchange empty words for your labor.
Say to these people:
"Go to plow with us, or go to the sea with our brothers to cast a net;
Because the land and the sea are as generous to you as they are to us. "
If singers, dancers and bagpipers come to the market, please buy their gifts, too.
Because they also collected fruits and frankincense, what they brought, though woven in dreams, is also the food and clothing for your soul.
When you leave the market, see if anyone comes home empty-handed.
Because the dominant spirit of the earth will not sleep in the wind until the needs of the weakest among you are met.
crime and punishment
A judge in the city said, please tell us something about crime and punishment.
He replied:
When your soul is floating in the wind,
You have wronged yourself by anchoring others by yourself unintentionally.
Because of your mistake, you must knock on the door of the Buddha, and you will be left out for a while.
Your sacred selves are like the sea;
Will never be defiled.
Just like the sky, it just raises its wings.
Your sacred self is even like the sun;
It doesn't know the path of mice, nor does it track the caves of insects and snakes.
However, you are not only divine.
Most of you are human, but many of you are not human.
But an unformed dwarf, sleepwalking in the fog, looking for his own awakening.
I'm talking about your humanity.
Because only it, not your divinity or the dwarf in the fog, can understand evil and
Punishment.
I often hear you accuse someone of making a mistake, as if he is not one of you, but he is.
Strangers among you, intruders in your world.
But I want to say that even a saint can't be higher than the supreme among each of you.
Similarly, even if the wicked are weak, they can't be lower than the lowest among you.
Like a lonely leaf, it won't turn yellow without the acquiescence of the whole tree.
It is not without the hidden promises of all of you that evil people will do wrong.
You go to your divinity like a queue,
You are a road and a pedestrian.
When one of you falls, he slips for the people behind him, so that they can carefully avoid the tripped stone.
Oh, he also slipped for the people in front, because although they walked lightly and firmly, they did not remove the stumbling block.
Also, although it makes you feel heavy:
The murdered man is not entirely responsible for his murder.
The robbed person is not blameless for his robbery.
Those who do good and obey the law are not pure and innocent in the evil deeds of the wicked.
Among the crimes committed by evildoers, those who are innocent are not necessarily innocent.
Indeed, the convicted are often the victims of the victims.
More commonly, the sentenced person bears a heavy burden for those who have not been prosecuted and is exempted from punishment.
Justice and injustice cannot be separated. Good and evil are separated;
Because they stand side by side in the sun, like black and white lines intertwined.
When the black thread is broken, the weaver should look at the whole fabric, and he should also check the loom.
If you take your unfaithful wife to court, please also weigh your husband's heart with scales and his soul with the same standard.
Let those who whip the criminals also examine the souls of the victims.
If you punish in the name of justice and add an axe to the tree of sin, please also observe the root of that tree;
In fact, you will find that good roots and evil roots, barren roots and fertile roots are intertwined in the silent heart of the earth.
You judges who are trying to uphold justice,
What punishment will be given to people who are physically loyal but mentally thieves?
What kind of punishment will those who hurt others' limbs, but actually suffered mental injuries?
How to sue a person who has committed fraud or oppression but has been violated and abused?
How do you punish those who deeply regret and suffer more than their mistakes?
Isn't remorse the justice of the law you serve?
We can't put regrets on innocent people, nor can we save sinners from regrets.
It comes uninvited and calls at midnight, and people will wake up and look at themselves.
As for you who try to understand justice, how can you understand justice if you don't look at all actions with extreme eyes?
Only then can you understand that only the same person is standing in the twilight of its dwarf night and sacred day.
And the corner stone is not higher than the bottom cornerstone.
law
Then a lawyer said, but what is our law, master?
He replied:
You are willing to legislate,
But more willing to destroy them.
They are like children playing by the sea, tirelessly building sand towers and then destroying them with a smile.
But when you build sand towers, the sea will bring more sand to the beach.
When you destroy the sand tower, the sea laughs with you.
Indeed, the sea is always playing with innocent people.
But what about those people whose lives are not oceans and whose artificial laws are not sand towers?
What about those who take life as a rock, law as a meat cleaver, and self as a prototype, carved in stone?
What should I do if I am jealous of the dancer's disability?
What about bulls who like to put on yokes and treat deer in the forest as vagrants?
What if an old snake can't take off its skin and says others are naked and shameless?
What about those who come to the wedding banquet early, full of food and drink, exhausted, and declare that all banquets are illegal and all those who attend the banquet are criminals?
What can I say except that these people stand in the sun with their backs to the sun?
They only see their own shadow, and this shadow is their law.
For them, isn't the sun just a projector?
Do you admit that the law is only for those who bow their heads to follow their own shadows?
If you travel facing the sun, how do the shadows cast on the earth bind you?
Walking against the wind, what kind of weather vane can show you the way?
If you don't break the shackles in front of others, how can artificial laws bind you?
If you dance without bumping into anyone's chains, what laws will scare you?
If you tear off your clothes and leave no one on the road, who will take you to court?
People in Falisse, you can hold the drum and relax the strings, but who can command the lark to sing?
freedom
An orator said, please tell us something about freedom.
He replied:
At the door, by the fire.
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