Ferrying through the mortal world
On a moonlit night when the mountain forest was bathed in light,
There’s a kind of encounter that makes me quietly shed tears.
The melancholic melody has been flowing deep within my heart.
Picking lotus flowers under the lotus blossoms, the oars glide by.
A water town in my dreams, quietly gazing upon it.
A breeze blew by, and clouds drifted by.
The flowing robes fluttered like floating leaves and falling flowers.
Slowly flowing past my eyes…
I really want to go for a walk on that long, narrow old street.
I want to take a ferry, to cross again, to get me to the other side.
On the other side, amidst the bustling world, are there any ferrymen to ferry people across?
They met again in their own lives.
Even if we miss it, we may not miss the smiles we saw.
The lingering autumn red, the melancholy suddenly became as delicate as spider silk.
The seasons also brought a mellow tranquility.
Life is a series of predictable twists and turns.
Life, devout and gentle, is like the setting sun’s lingering affection for the mountains.
The vicissitudes of life leave their mark year after year, etched on the corners of the eyes, hiding the passage of time.
Looking back, I finally understand the wall I had built around my heart all along.
It’s just to protect the most tender love in my heart.
I fear I won’t have time to wipe away the sorrow between my brows.
I also fear that one day time will stand still in my distant gaze.
I fear my heart cannot capture the fragrance of lotus blossoms under the sunlight.
Delicate footsteps knocked on the chilly path of old footprints.
There’s a feeling that’s not a memory; it’s like looking out the window.
My feelings are hazy and damp; I’ll speak them out.
It is a series of vicissitudes etched between his brows.
It is also a song of longing.
After a long time, I’m going back to overthinking and feeling sad.
It was still there, at the ferry crossing in the twilight.
Waiting for autumn after autumn, and then autumn after autumn…
The reflection of time, with some ripples.
Drifting among the flowers and water, it has no connection to the theme of lotus flowers.
The lotus’s beauty has only been captured by the season.
Not to utter the promises once made
In every unexpected moment
A lonely dance, echoing deep within the heart.
Like a lotus in bloom, her heart’s secrets will suddenly grow old…
There are always some dewdrops held in the palm of your hand.
Scattered by time on a certain morning;
There are always some clear and transparent thoughts in one’s heart.
In the season of light rain, my past and present lives drift away with the wind.
Is it a red lotus petal or a green leaf that ferries people across?
Time gradually seeps out from the palm of your hand.
But there wasn’t even the slightest ripple!
But it allows people to see those feelings.
Like floating leaves and falling flowers,
It slowly flowed past my eyes…
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