Tonight, the summer rain beats the flowers outside the window, and the smile of bougainvillea permeates the season.
Sitting quietly by the heart door, looking for violets in front of the Buddha from the depths of the night.
I can't close my long silence. I'm listening, listening to the sound of wooden fish coming from the temple in the distance.
With the ups and downs of the rain, the pious heart sounds gradually drift away. ...
In my dream, I sat on a lotus leaf, trying to capture the Buddha's edge under the bodhi tree.
I sat quietly in the misty rain, at the foot of the Buddha, listening to the six-character mantra in the Buddhist temple.
With my thin hands, sound the alarm.
On such a quiet rainy night, I paved a road of compassion with time, and the moon is far-reaching in the mirror.
Seeing a green maple leaf washed away my inner changes on a rainy night in summer.
An extracted acacia dyed the whole autumn red.
At this moment, I want to use the rainy night in Bashan to wash away the emptiness in my heart.
The secluded Shan Ye, wrapped in layers of smoke, read all the joys and sorrows of the world.
"Jun asked that the return date has not yet arrived, and the rain rises in the autumn pool." Perhaps, at that time, I was already haggard.
It was only at midnight that I caught a glimpse and caught up with the pace of the season.
Polish the night sky with a cool breeze. Before dawn, I still choose to sit quietly and walk into your heart.
Wait until "when * * * cuts the candle at the west window, but talks about the rain at night." Get back together with you ...