Now I know who the king is.
Whose head is floating with clouds, whose window is open in the sky, whose threshold is also in the sky.
The feet are above 3 kilometers above sea level.
Now I know whose skin this is.
Not white jade, platinum, nor silver, but
Wearing ordinary white mud
Now I know it is far away from me.
Far and near, far like a person in a previous life.
As close as before the Buddha.
A lamp
Now I know it's called Potala Palace.
But it's not Potala, it's just a cloud and a gust of wind on the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau.
I turned around.
It disappeared ...