Do your best and ask for what you want

Sometimes it seems that the heavens that set the rules of heaven

is always, a symbol of injustice

Scattering some seeds into the fertile land

The rain is plentiful, and the wind and the sun are beautiful

Stuffing other seeds into the cracks of the rock

They are left to fend for themselves without soil or water

Sometimes I feel that I am the seed

The seed in the crevice of the rock, to burst out of the darkness

To stand up and live, doing everything possible

Sometimes I feel that fate owes me a debt

Always catching up with time

Like a diligent and

Harvesting countless times of physical and mental exhaustion

In the end, it is only

Built a shelter from the wind and rain

A cave for shelter

Sometimes I ask myself

The so-called "best efforts"

is just a pretext to excuse oneself

Many times

When you should do whatever it takes to push hard

but cling to the defense of "no guilt"

Not willing to raise the sword of hypocrisy

Wearing a mask made of lies

To fight for a shiny golden crown

Like a small plant in the wilderness

Knowing how hard it is to live, but still with strength

To hold up the blue sky that belongs to them

Sometimes I think over and over again

Doing my best and working hard

The desire for some worldly fame and fortune

but also to maintain the color of conscience is not tainted

I don't dare to go beyond the limits, and I am careful in every way

So much of the meat that was in the mouth was taken away by the fox

So many cooked ducks have flown away

In the squeeze of contradiction

Covering a wounded conscience

Feel so tired. Is it wrong or right?

Many times when I can't figure out

I would go out of my humble room and stare at the sky

Searching for answers in the vast and boundless emptiness

Clouds come and go in the sky

Just like the traffic on this earth

Which cloud is not flowing?

Which cloud can be the sky

The eternal master of the sky?

I just want to be a cloud

A white cloud that does not stain the soul

The clouds go on tirelessly

And I go on my way

When new clouds come

The old clouds scatter silently

I to go with the clouds, without guilt

Without leaving a single trace

That flesh wrapped in gold and jewels

Can they avoid the fate of floating clouds?

Let the tombstones be engraved with gold words

for thousands and thousands of years, and not turn into dust?

If they do not turn into dust, those millions of years ago

The faces of the weak and the strong

Where are they now?

I have seen through the red world, but I have lingered in the red world

I don't want to be cold-blooded and ruthless and abandon my responsibilities

More and more I like to avoid the noisy crowd

With eyes that have been through the dust of the world

To see the world, the fallen and fresh landscape

I don't have the money to travel across thousands of mountains and rivers

Like to find an old and silent alley to wander

Occasionally, I remember what Dai Wangshu was looking forward to

The vision of the lilac-like girl

The poet should have met her in the sky

They flew together in the clouds

When I was on earth, I recalled the same sorrow of "Rainy Lane

Sometimes shedding a tear of mixed sorrow and joy

Turned into fine rain, gently lifting

Sprinkled on the mossy stone path