Only in the World, Not Tainted by the World's Taste
Not savoring the hundred flavors of the world, One cannot grasp even the three flavors within it.
The benches in the park, How many passersby one has sat upon, Whose trace remains after one sits,
Only in the red dust, Not tainted by the flavor of the world,
Is it a dream or not a dream, The moon is only in the sky.
Not savoring the hundred flavors of the world, Who understands the three flavors within it.
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