Thousands of years of Dunhuang prose poetry

1

The long hair of the flying goddess stirred up the hot wind of the county like a long mouth

The vast desert, the footsteps of the camel team walked through the slow years, walking in On the distant silk

So I woke up in the world after a thousand years of dreaming, and showed myself in front of the world in the most beautiful posture

And I am an Oriental boy who came here from Yumen Pass

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Come and listen to your most original words, thousand-year stories and your depression

2

Could the Mogao Grottoes be solidified with the bricks of wisdom by your own hands? It became the hometown of the Tang Dynasty

Like the mighty beast king in the forest, despising all the symbols of beauty in the world

My holy Bodhisattva and the most benevolent spirit

Why do I see only the totem of your suffering in my adoring eyes?

The universe is full of snares. If you don’t run away or resist, what are you thinking with your eyes open?

Three

On the white beach, two or three northern geese cut through the gradually turning brown sky

This is an unchangeable reality of destiny. Human beings do not care about the destruction of flowers and plants for their own survival. Bring back the black wind again

Trampled by iron hooves, the land is filled with the sorrow and resentment of those who were plundered, mutilated and helpless in the Gobi Desert

The serious loss of civilization, or it can be draped on others and turn into stars and roses The dawn of color

Every time I look at the scene of the camel bell ringing on the shameful Taoist tower, Qiuye sheds tears sadly

Four

Now, in Tianshan The snow is still falling, and Yumen frost is still condensing on the scripture murals

Oh murals, they are mysterious, deserted, charming, ugly, unfamiliar, and familiar, as if they will be separated from the world for a long time

< p> Oh Dunhuang, in my sleep, I seem to have returned to your era when the stone walls were overflowing

The sky is full of clank and iron bones, the yellow sand and the horses are bloody, and the blood-soaked ostriches are neighing in the sky< /p>

The bells of Mingsha Mountain have been ringing for eternity. The dusk is like a gloomy old crow, and the flying sand and blood shadows are swept up.

Five

Horse shadows tread on the sand. , the evening wind blew through the dry skin and dropped a sunken bell in the moon basin

The echoes in the mountains were: the sound of the bell, the sound of the gong, the sound of the chime, the sound of the wooden fish, the sound of the Buddha's trumpet... < /p>

Perhaps, every Sanskrit sound that comes and goes seems to be looking for the Sanmiao people lost in the Hexi Corridor

It is said that the ceramics of the Sanmiao people can be filled with historical stories and confusion, and believers will Looking hard for the Buddha's light on your cliff wall

Even if the heaven still rings the mysterious ancient dream of Red Dunhuang, the spider web of mourning will still guard the Thousand Buddhas Temple

Six

Yes, even though I am just an oriental boy who followed the camel caravan from the Western Regions from Yumen Pass

Although the historical relics or sorrow or tragedy or traces or resentment, I will sleep (protect) in your By my side

At this time, I really want to bring the stream of Crescent Moon Spring to plant rows of Populus euphratica for you to create a second oasis hometown

In this life, I really want to fill it up The dream of flying in the sky and flying feathers is a flight of the soul out of the body

In the next life, I would like to stay in front of your Buddha, burn incense and pray, and pray that the world full of holes under my feet will always be peaceful