Walking on the path I once traveled, scenes of separation and parting come to mind, along with vows carved into eternity by lies, and the chaotic mix of warmth and cold in this worldly life. I wish I could act as if it didn't matter, to quietly bury all the sorrow, but the burning pain chews on bitterness, leaving behind eternal wounds from which the lost warmth can never be recovered. In a state of blurred vision, as the splendor fades, I lock my heart and seal my grievances. With bare hands, my soul flies to the nine heavens, and my spirit scatters a thousand miles away. With a bitter smile at the red dust of life, I lament how many heartbreaks remain and how many poems of sorrow fall.
The most difficult moments are often when we are closest to success.
The first thread of autumn's chill slips into my bedding, intertwining with my body, sparing not even my toes. Recalling the days of old, under the orange morning light, I try to scoop up this coldness, watching each hair on my body stretch lazily, shimmering with a crystal-clear golden hue.
Success lies at your feet; happiness resides in your heart.
Accept the gifts life offers you with composure, whether they are good or bad.
No explanations, no sadness. The joy of life lies in walking your own path and viewing your own scenery. Do not be proud of surpassing others, nor discouraged when others surpass you.