A Mortal Life, Born of One Thought · Above and Below, All Connected · 97 / 102
Hua Qian Yin · Planting a Thought
Flowers scatter across the courtyard; I raise my cup; the moon shines alone, the long watches thicken the mood. Swaying through the years of youth, drunken eyes pass over the ruined parts of the city.
Ten thousand fathoms of red dust, its affairs hard to refuse; beside a soft fragrance, a clear wind comes to talk. Don't bring up the old memories again; the satin ribbon unrolls, the fire of the years dances.
Glosses—
Long watches [changgeng]: that is, the long night.
*This is an original work. If you reprint it, please credit the original author Guang Zhi Shiyi; any infringement, once discovered, will be pursued for legal liability. In addition, the accompanying image comes from the internet and belongs to the original illustrator RedMatcha.