The holy golden lotus under the Buddha's seat is my true body that will remain unchanged for thousands of years.
I am a lotus in the wind and dust. I'm swaying in the copper-smelling wind. The hollow stem looks fragile, but it is so strong that I can't stand in this muddy and chaotic wind.
You are a butterfly in the sun. Fly, hover in the air lightly, and land on any flower with fragrant flowers in the most beautiful way.
I am willing to be friends with you for life, even for life. But I was born in clear water, longing for lightness, and the strong fragrance on your body separates you from me again and again. Perhaps my elegant water is not your pursuit of life, and this tranquility is not your destination. Perhaps it is this natural, but also the most real difference that finally makes us go our separate ways.
I am a lotus in the wind and dust, and my constant nature is instinct, so I can only part with you.
I am a lotus in the wind and dust. I stand alone under the sky of power. It's so cloudy that I can't see the sun. The beautiful sunshine is covered by dark clouds, so far away from me. I also look forward to going to the imperial court and being an official to benefit so many suffering people in the world. But I just want to turn my body into a solid land and use my talent to bloom gorgeous flowers. Every inch of growth will bring me closer to the sun. But you, like a vine, cling to the black wall and crawl towards the sky. You've been with me for years, fighting for fame. But you and I are so different. I understand that you and I are different, and we pursue different values. This will eventually prevent us from becoming bosom friends like mountains and rivers. Behind the sober is so sad and clear. Leaving only a pain of parting-goodbye.
I am a lotus in the wind and dust, and the sky is my yearning. With my own arms, I will fly closer to heaven.
You and I have different choices, so our meeting can only be a meeting, not an intersection. What remains in our hearts is only that the butterflies flying in summer stay in Qinghe, and Qinghe accepts the flying butterflies for a moment.
You, the flying butterfly, are constantly attracted by the rich fragrance of peony, and you fly farther and farther away from me. You are more and more beautiful against the peony, but you don't know that autumn is coming, and your summer trip will draw a sad end in the sad autumn wind.
I, a lotus cultivated by Buddha, swaying in the dust. The wind can't blow down my waist, the rain can't wash my red, the light can't take off my beauty, and people's hearts are not as clean as mine. I am a holy golden lotus, which emerges from the mud but is not stained, bright but not demon.