内心的结常常是自我造成的伤口，与风月无关，而是源于自我施加的痛苦。

原文英文

Wind stirs through the building, shadows sway, as if brightness and sorrow of blooming flowers intertwine. One wishes to frown yet still carries a faint smile, tears and melancholy merging like endless landscapes stretching one journey after another. Paths may come to an end, but inner grievances are hard to cross. Dreams are easily broken, sorrow easily intoxicates, and stumbling steps leave lingering echoes of tears. Inner knots of distress are often self-inflicted wounds, unrelated to wind, moon, or rain, but born from self-imposed suffering. Once it was thought that sensitivity and emotion were injustices of fate, only to realize later that it is the self who becomes intoxicated, not the wine. Late at night, sleepless and restless, one gazes into the endless sky filled with confusion. Under the dim moonlight, emotions fade yet still weigh heavily on the heart. Human warmth and coldness intertwine, and even within storms there is warmth, yet inner sorrow remains unresolved, as if carried from another life. Looking up at the vast sky, one cannot help but ask: when will there truly be a peaceful reunion beneath the blossoms and moonlight?

On the rough road of life, one keeps exploring without fatigue; before flowers and applause, one only smiles calmly without attachment. Neither rejoicing in external gains nor grieving over personal loss, abandoning both honor and disgrace—only then can one truly understand life. Such calm detachment is the true extraordinary within the ordinary life.