Ah, these jasmine flowers, these white jasmine flowers!
I seem to remember that day, I filled my hands with these jasmine flowers and these white jasmine flowers for the first time.
I once loved the sun, the sky and the green earth;
I once heard the river flowing through the darkness at midnight;
The autumn sunset once greeted me in the lonely wasteland, and at the corner of the road, it was like a bride lifting her veil to meet her lover.
But in my memory, it is still fragrant for the first white jasmine I held in my hand when I was a child.
Many happy days came into my life. On holiday nights, I laughed with the frolicters.
On a gray rainy morning, I used to hum many leisurely songs in a low voice.
I once wore a cordate telosma wreath around my neck, woven by my lover.
But my heart is fragrant for the first white jasmine I held in my hand when I was a child.
Green leaves of the heart
The green leaves of countless invisible hearts stretch around me for thousands of years.
I am attached to these trees. They are long-lasting almsgiving monks who are eager for sunshine. Every day, they scoop out the sweet juice of light from the sky and inject the stored invisible flame into the deepest bone marrow of life. From flowers, from birds' singing, from lovers' touching, from affectionate commitment, from tears' eagerness to dedication, we extract the crystallization of pure and fragrant beauty.
Many forgotten or remembered beauties have left a real taste of "immortality" in my veins.
The storm of bitterness and joy caused by various conflicts shook the leaves that spread my feelings, adding intensive joy and trembling, bringing humiliating reprimands, uneasy embarrassment, pollution distress and protests under the pressure of life.
The strange movement of right and wrong is surging with the waves of spiritual interests, and passion sends all greedy ideas into the sacrifice hall.
The whisper of green leaves, which can't be felt through the ages, makes me disillusioned. In the noon leisure time when the eagle hovers, the bees buzz and the tears are crystal clear, the lovers who shake hands and sit silently wander, and their green sympathy falls, brushing the edge of the sari on the girl lying in bed's undulating and soft chest.