In the morning, I opened the window, and the sun shone through the dense fog and the lush branches and leaves of camphor trees, sprinkling some hazy and mottled light and shadow.
The cage between heaven and earth is covered with a layer of gauze mixed with gold thread, and birds are singing in the forest.
What can I tell you, my friend? I seem to feel that the tips of my hair are wet with fog, and what remains in my hair is the brightest star in the sky, which is a gift from nature.
Sunlight and morning fog are a perfect combination. They are telling touching stories, making every green leaf, every hibiscus and every living thing shed the most touching tears, and those tears returned to the sky and became stars.
What fascinates me is the little sunshine, morning mist and tears on this treasure land. As always, they are so beautiful and quiet.
superficially clever
I suddenly remembered last night's dream, dreaming of endless traffic and people coming and going. Dream of neon flashing, another kind of prosperity.
But I am very lonely.
Like every vagrant on the street corner, wandering, wandering ...
I heard you. That's someone's depraved voice: intoxicated all day, crazy singing all day, they are addicted to desire and pleasure.
I saw it, too. That's someone's old guitar. His face was full of vicissitudes and his eyes were tired, but he was intoxicated with his own singing, sometimes smiling and sometimes crying.
Why are you tired? In this flashy world.
He shook his head and left alone.
So I said to God: I should leave.
God smiled and asked, "What do you see?"
I replied: glitz, glitz in the world.
This flashy, unexpectedly let me lose my way, let me at a loss, and at a loss.