China DOS Union

Who can explain how brilliance returns to plainness? The scenery of the third month of spring passes before the eyes again and again. The one looking at the scenery is taken by others as part of the scenery, and wants to search for some beautiful words and phrases to adorn life. Vaguely like a white-robed scholar stepping out from the classical past,
wandering through the spring countryside full of blossoms, following the flickering spots of light from one or two butterflies' beating wings. All along the way, willow strands tug at the clothes, fragrant grass is green and lush all along the way, and fine sunlight shines down as well. When those red apricot and white pear blossoms sway, it seems as if petals strike each other and send out bursts of music, clear as ringing bells; at such a moment, you truly feel that the wind is gentle and the clouds are light.
But all of this is only something you imagined with great difficulty, and in the end you still have to say that after all, you are no longer as you once were. Just what was it about those days that changed you so? Another year, outside the window, the frogs cry like thunder; you want to speak and yet stop yourself. You remember seeing yesterday those magnolia trees in full bloom, white petals falling in shards like mirrors. You fled in confusion, and afterward could no longer recall anything more, so you could only put down the pen.

In this silence
some things will suddenly touch
our long-lost true hearts
in this kind of lonely silence
there is the longing we have hidden
there are our deepest wishes
not buried by the clamor of this city
not erased by the helplessness of existence
we long for silence
we await silence
when silence comes
we hold fast to it

When was it that this self-awareness began?
In truth you are, by nature, an outsider
outside that soft red dust and the three realms
between the mortal world and the farther shore
walking a journey without scenery
everything around you flows by like reflections in a mirror
but when you fling yourself toward it
everything turns into nothingness
you are nothing more than an outsider
you have not reached that side
and this side does not belong to you either
even if you take part with the greatest care
the flowers do not bloom for you
the moon does not shine for you
the wind does not blow toward you
the snow does not drift toward you
。。。。。。。。。。。
you should still return to your own space
after all, you are only an outsider
even if you dress yourself in the brightest colors
in tonight's lights
you are destined to dance alone
to sing alone within your own thoughts.
Hold a grateful heart
for those who once looked back at you
—friends from another world