I am a woman walking in the floating dust. I believe that before God ends my life, I will meet you.
By Leng Fu-nien / tr. by Phil Newell
Like all ordinary women in the world, all I want is a peaceful life. A love with no regrets.
Like all the tender women in the world, I only want to be the one who belongs to you.
Be a quiet woman. Accompany you by your side, calculate the firewood, rice, oil and salt, wash and cook for you, and accompany you to see the old moon and green mountains. To share your joys and sorrows. Hold old with you, forever with you. Never give up with you.
I just want to hold the light of love in full bloom for the rest of my life, and walk through the frustrations and estrangement that should be experienced in this life. Carve the years into a long happy time. Between free and easy and redemption, treat all life gently. Walk slowly in the floating dust and learn to give equal tenderness to all the people you meet in your life. Face the world with a simple heart and live a simple and peaceful life.
But in this world, there is always love that is less than love, just like the green lotus in the pool.
I often sigh that the love in writing is as desolate as ginger flowers.
Always sigh, no one can drink the bitterness of the boundless desolation on my lips.
But life is hard, like a boulder that is getting bigger and bigger.
Too early to understand that there is a translucent river between mystery and enlightenment. The world has come to oar to cross the river. I need a lot of work.
If you read it too early, smile affectionately at a flower, or wash your body and mind with a cup of tea, those desires, habits, and thoughts will go with the wind. Everything must be too stubborn. And I'm looking forward to it.
In the meantime, I spread out a pair of Xuan paper and wrote down a lifetime of lingering. Write all the desolation of this life, write all the sorrow of this life.
From then on, do not quit the Old City, scattered around the world; do not forget the Old City, Chunhua Qiubi.
Even those sentimental, long-lasting pain, still blooming incomparably clearly in loneliness, full of kisses and tears.
However, time flies, the past is like smoke, and things are gone with the wind. The heart should be clearer. If you often make a shrewd valuation of happiness, you will only end up in deep love, and your wisdom will be hurt.
I just want you, by my side, to put Aisheng in the left heart.
I stroked the lines of the palms embracing each other and saw the time passing through my eyes one by one.
Read lightly the words written in tears and the promises made in the wind.
I hope that, after many years, the words you have said to me, such as the entrance to the medicine stone, will kiss off the broken wound at the bottom of my heart.
I will close my eyes and lie in the ship of time, allowing memories to invade the five internal organs and six internal organs like a flood.
I will hold your hand, see through the scenery of the world, and walk through the long stream.
I will stay by your side and accompany you to the white head.
I will touch the corner of your eye and count your eyebrows.
But how can I meet the real you in the next second?
But how, you can know, only you, is my most beautiful country.
Maybe you hold a little blue sadness in your warm palm, but I also believe that you will be the warmest spark in the dark. You don't have to know how much time I spent here for you.
I am waiting here because I believe that before God ends my life, I will meet you.
No matter whether the mountains are long and the rivers are far away, poor, rich, old, sick and dead. You'll always be with me.
When I grow old, I will sit in front of the windowsill, quietly write a paragraph, write a story, write down all over the land. Listen to a song, listen to a story, hear the big city and small things in the story. Until the sunset, until the song mottled the old time, until the old time blurred their own figure. When I raise my eyes, I can see you, waving and smiling to me in the backlight.
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