Flowers Bloom, Flowers Fall Before the Buddha
In the blooming and fading of flowers, I've grown accustomed to pain. Thank you for giving me strength and courage; unwavering in wind and rain.
Night whispers, recounting mountains and seas in a lengthy narrative. Night is like a silent lute, shattering the sorrows of countless souls.
Life is full of endless affairs, choked with dark ink, crimson notes on colorless paper.
You linger beyond the palace walls, lamenting with the chime of bells and the rustling of trees, pitying all beings.
I reside within the humble threshold, smiling as I cultivate cloud-water meditation, flowers blooming reflect me, flowers falling reflect the Buddha.
Lonely focus, is the most beautiful soul beneath the moonlight.
Like a rainbow after the rain, happiness will eventually arrive, you just need to wait, with enough patience and stillness to hear the knock on the door.
If you constantly seek to intrude upon my world, how could you possibly understand my lonely freedom.
