Hurry Zhu Ziqing
The swallow is going, there is another time; will willow, there is a greenness; peach blossom, there is another time. However, smart, you tell me, why is our day? - Someone stole them: Who is that? Where is it? It is their own escape: Where is it now?
I don't know how many days they gave me; but my hand is getting more emptiness. In silently calculating, more than 8,000 days have been slippery from me; like a drop of water on the sea, my day is dropped in the time of time, there is no sound, and there is no shadow. I can't help but tears.
Although I went, I came to the middle of the way; how to hurry? When I got up in the morning, the hut was shocked in the two-way oblique sun. The sun he has a feet, and it is slightly moved quietly; I also followed the rotation. So - washing hands, the days from the basin; when eating, the days passed from the rice bowl; silently passed the front of the eyes. I was in a hurry, when I extended my hand, he passed from the handked hand, when I was dark, I was lying on the bed, he across my body, flying from my feet went. When I opened my eyes and the sun, I slip away again. I hide the sigh. But the shadows of the new days have begun to flash in the sigh.
What can I do in the world of thousands of people in the world? Only, only hurried; in a hurry in more than 8,000 days, what is left, what is left? In the past, like a light smoke, it was blown by the breeze, such as the mist, was steamed by the junior yang; what traces I left? Why did I stay like a trace? I am naked to this world, and I will return naked. But it is not flat, why do you want to go through this?
You are smart, tell me, why is our day?
March 28, 1922
