A prose about rain

Introduction: The sails of time gradually drifted away under the gaze of memories, and the melody of "Blooming Life" suddenly sounded in my ears, arousing an inexplicable desire in my heart. Gently open the curtains, and a spring rain wets the pious and longing flowers. The following are 8 essays about rain that I have shared with you. Welcome to learn from them!

Chapter 1 Prose about Rain

This rainy period was so long, it rained for more than ten days. The unprecedented humid weather dampened my emotions and thoughts for a while. It was as if everything was wet with rain. My emotions are like this rainy season, with haze coming and going, leaving traces of annoyance entangled in my heart.

The love that throbs my heartstrings is like the rain of the season, which gently moistens my body. The love that trembles my soul is like the wind of this season, which blows my forehead with moisture and messes me up. heart.

Facing the constant rain, I really want to leave that noisy street corner and find a quiet and clear place to release my long-pressed thoughts and dry my long-damp thoughts. Then, I spent one night and one dream searching for my past love, wondering if it was still the same.

The spring rain is foggy, and love is also confused. I lost my direction for a moment in confusion, couldn't find your trace, let alone your thoughts. So, like a lost child, I stood there and waited quietly. I could vaguely hear your murmur in the wind and rain, and your figure seemed to be shaking in front of my eyes. And in the confusion, no matter how I move, I can't get closer to your side.

When you left suddenly, sadness instantly filled my body and mind, just like this gloomy rainy day, so moist. Use your soul to weave the silk of love, as soft as smooth, flying in the spiritual sky with the drizzle. Since I can't have your love, I can at least be with loneliness.

Loving someone is bound to hurt you. Because love and pain are an inseparable combination of emotions. There is a kind of love that becomes sweet only when you feel pain. Only when you are hurt can you know how to cherish it and take better care of it.

This rainy season is filled with love, and the confusing rain curtain is dazzling. But your world is sunny and colorful. I can't get into your time no matter what. My hurried pursuit is getting more and more tiring. I can't catch your falling figure. I can stand alone where you left. , heart tears and rain beat the ground mercilessly, and sighs were made with tick-tick-tick sounds.

Chapter 2: Prose about Rain

In order to learn how to write ancient poems in my early years, I bought a thread-bound version of "Poetry Rhymes Together with the Wall", a letter of 6 volumes, font It's small and has a lot of information. In addition to looking up the rhymes of poems, it also classifies various objects, scenes, and moods, and compiles related poems from past dynasties into a fairly complete poetry dictionary. In the past, when literati needed to write poems on an emergency basis, they could quickly concoct a few poems by checking them out. But there is no doubt that poems written in this way are not worth reading. It is only interesting to flip through it casually when you are not tasked with writing poetry and see the various collections of Chinese poetic words under the same title.

After flipping through it, the title "Yeyu" appeared, and most of the poems there were readable. Since it is night, all kinds of colors have faded, and all colorful words have lost their effectiveness; it is raining again, and the space is very cramped, and no heroic feats can be spread. The poems have to move towards simplicity, towards themselves, towards Regarding emotion, Li Shangyin's famous "Light Rain Sends to the North" can be regarded as a model.

Just listening to the sound of rain falling hard and sparse in the night outside the window will fill you with poetry. In terms of beauty, there is no such thing as beauty. The road outside the house is muddy and difficult to walk, the flowers in the courtyard are in disarray, and night travelers are soaked to the skin. But it is in this situation that you will feel that the usual secular noise is extinguished for a while, and only the tranquility unified by the sound of rain and the loneliness blocked by the sound of rain are left in the world. Everyone quietly returned to their seats and sat silently surrounded by rain curtains with complete determination. Everything in the outside world has become imagination, and the imagination in the night rain is always focused and distant.

The night rain deprives people of their vitality, so the imagination in the night rain is particularly sensitive and timid. This fear is mixed with a certain sense of security, condensing into a warm self-enjoyment and expectation in the small world. Chatting with your family around the fire in the night rain, you will almost never quarrel; concentrate on studying in the night rain, and your body and mind will be super strong when ironing; miss your friends in the night rain, and you will miss them so much that you immediately find a pen to write a letter; burn the light in the night rain to compose, and the words It will also become nourishing and enriching.

In the night rain, it is best to imagine that it is best to stand against wealth. The dim light shines on the dense rain, and the glass windows are cold and cold, turned into a mist by your hot breath. You can see very little, but you seem to be able to see very far. The wind was not strong, and a gentle burst immediately turned into the sound of falling rain, into denser ripples in the river, and into thicker mud on the road. At this moment, nothing in the world would interfere with the sound of wind and rain that allowed freedom. You wiped away the fog on the window with your warm fingers and saw countless crystal raindrops on the outside of the window. New mist has risen again, but you still use your fingers to scratch, scratch, and scratch, and finally draw out the name you are missing.

Night rain is the enemy of travel.

It’s not because it’s difficult to walk at night, or because I didn’t bring rain boots and an umbrella. Night rain can make travelers homesick, very deeply.

Night rain will make travelers long for comfort, and suddenly realize that they are in a remote and lonely situation, and feel self-pity, forming a bond of passion for thousands of miles.

It is not the rapids and treacherous shoals, nor the high mountains, but the night rain that makes countless travelers regret and return halfway. I don’t understand how Faxian, Xuanzang, Zheng He, Jianzhen, and Xu Xiake felt during the night rains. In my opinion, their strongest will was to break out of the night rains.

As a useless person like me, I would often hide in a country inn on a night of heavy rain and take out the map and look at it carefully. His eyes wandered back and forth over the thousands of miles he had traveled, imagining the countless rivers and mountains shrouded in night rain. On nights like this, I often suffer from insomnia. In order to drive away this hopeless and lazy mood, I would always invite a few strangers to have a long chat in the rain at night.

However, what really brought my mind back was not this conversation at all, but the sunny morning the next day. In the morning after the rain, people almost forget last night; but they can't completely forget it, leaving a little shadow, which is cool and dark, adding a touch of melancholy.

In the journey of life, the charm of Ye Yu can also be explored deeply.

I believe that time and time again, Ye Yu has dampened my daughter-in-law’s rising ambitions, Ye Yu has soothed my arrogant mind, I have stopped the looming fights, and I have shattered the dangerous dreams. conspiracy. Of course, Ye Yu also experienced magnificent ambitions, brave progress, and passionate feelings.

I don’t know if historians have ever checked how many dark, rainy nights quietly changed the pace of Chinese history. The general relaxed his eyebrows, the counselors insulted themselves, the king calmed down, the heroes calmed down, the knights stopped, the drums stopped, the horses returned to their troughs, the swords were sheathed, the memorials were interrupted, the edicts were withdrawn, the ship anchored, The alcohol has subsided, the carnival has subsided, breathing has stopped, and the heart rate has calmed down.

Chapter 3: Prose about Rain

Listening to the spring rain by the window, I miss you so much, and pour into the glass of wine, which is refreshing. ——Inscription

The spring rain is ticking, and I raise my glass to the window to listen to the rain alone. The pattering almost falls in the hazy corner of my heart, accumulating a shallow dampness, slowly flowing through my smooth heart, and growing faintly. Out of sadness. All my longings are in this glass of red wine. I raise a glass to invite the spring rain, let me once again understand your clear song in the spring rain, and listen to your lingering thoughts again.

There were several boats of fallen leaves drifting in the rain, and the leaves that fell to the ground were so wet and desolate. Staring at the rain curtain, there are smoke, clouds, and silk, which are so lingering and lingering in my heart, but I am so disappointed that my brows are condensed. The familiar melody stays in the autumn season, and for a long time beside the chrysanthemum altar stands a passerby who has been forgotten by winter. The outstretched hand is hanging in the air and cannot touch the familiar tenderness. The direction is always redirected by the distance.

The blessings of Valentine's Day are still lingering on my ears and temples, but there is no candlelight to reflect the feelings of this love to be recalled. The longing for romance is an incomparable crescent moon in the sky in the heart. The moonlight is not illusory, but it lacks the romance of roses. So I miss the spring rainy night, and I am grateful for the burning candle that never goes out in the window of my heart. The expectation of missing each other day and night is frozen in the spring rain. There is never room for release in the turbulent day, and I can only express my thoughts in the rainy night. I clearly understand myself. The seemingly calm silence cannot escape the throbbing and sadness of the season. Although I don’t want to get involved in any otherworldly feelings, the thousands of layers of emotions in my heart have been frozen in the sound of rain. Looking forward to retaining a secret path to meet each other deep in my heart, hugging and talking to each other in the neon green mist.

A window with spring rain, a glass of red wine, drink by yourself. I am used to being accompanied by wine every night, and drinking alone has been integrated into my life. Wine is the ink of time, the soul of words, and the yeast of emotions. Wine is never intoxicating, it is just a cup of wine that makes people drunk alone. Gradually, they get drunk on the rainy night, drunk in gentle reverie, and drunk in sad infatuation. The rain is hazy, I invite you to drink in the wind and rain, and drink your tenderness like the water alone. That unintentional murmur, an affectionate gaze, and a farewell phone call are enough for me to express my feelings for a lifetime. Every word about you has been immersed in my dream. The deep and shallow thoughts are all caused by you, and the misty love lasts in the fireworks in March.

A rainy scene, a glass of red wine, a ray of candlelight, an obsession, and a drunken love, I can only hold on to a little tenderness given to me in autumn, and linger timidly and pitifully in the astringent memories. middle. There is a distance that cannot be crossed, and a memory that cannot be erased. I imagine your figure in my tired mind. It’s true: Missing each other in the spring rain,

There is an inch of drinking space in the corridor.

Knead it with a little mellow wine,

Gather the lingering love.

Chapter 4: Prose about Rain

The continuous drizzle fell on the roof, and the crisp sound was very clear at night. The rhythm is very slow, but it conveys a feeling of loneliness. A stream of thoughts formed from the cracks in the tiles, flowing continuously towards the eaves, and then fell and dispersed in the wind.

You listen to the truest voice through the window. Occasionally it will be a little messy, but you will soon sort out the strong person pretending to be under the dark night. Opening the window and reaching out, the smell of raindrops is still mixed with sadness, and my heart is also hesitant. Four white walls and the style of night can never wrap up your heartache. Who said that when raindrops fall, they will turn into ponds; who said that when feelings emerge, sunshine will appear.

Darkness enveloped you, and you began to run away, but you forgot your coat. The raindrops on the face are like knives, but they cut deeply into the heart and never let the blood flow. The excessive noise of the rain ignores your loneliness and washes away the perfection in your memory.

Perfect memories are no longer played back, but you are looking forward to a gorgeous encounter. The focused light shines on me, the earth is the stage, and the rain is the background music. A love movement is staged. Why no one applauds, and I can't find the hero in my heart. A person dances to his heart's content in the rain, waltzing out of sadness. But the anticipated encounter was so absurd.

Only the cat is quietly admiring it. Her eyes are equally sad as yours. You look at each other and see through your thoughts. It turned out that the cat's eyes had already left scattered figures, so clear and so hurt. She hasn't left for a long time, always standing by your side. Maybe she has also seen the same yearning in your eyes...

The only audience is a sad cat, so you meet her. Hug, then cry together and forget about the road.

Chapter 5: Prose about Rain

I hate June in Tianjin, which is even more hot than Wuhan. At some point, I will wait passionately for the rain to come. The sore muscles all over my body in recent days have actually indicated that a rain will come soon.

On this summer night, after a long period of dusk, I finally encountered a rain unexpectedly. I looked through the window and looked at the rain curtain dancing under the street lamp. The raindrops gently beat on the roof, like the sound of a piano and a harp; also like a person's gentle whisper. Such rain fell quietly into the feelings of June. In the days of flowing fire, I had long forgotten the footsteps of spring rain. I stared at the sky, and the night seemed to be surrounded by rain for a moment. The warmth of the night is like the embrace of a beautiful woman. I hug her and kiss her gently. I originally thought that my heart could flow freely in the coolness of the night, but the loneliness in my heart is always so long and long!

I was as drunk as I was drunk, and the thoughts I occasionally picked up were disrupted by the rain outside the window. The ginkgo trees beside the road are not very lush, but they no longer have the vicissitudes of being bald in winter, and will be replaced by the thirst of life. It seemed as if the greenery had already poked its head out to breathe the long-lost air, and it seemed as if the whole tree was shivering with cold, yet full of energy. Willow branches are so lonely and admiring themselves, her curves are so beautiful and charming. The gentle rhythm comes from the breeze that occasionally blows by. It seems chaotic, but it is chaotic. It's charming but not vulgar, as elegant as a pure girl, and blooms like a shy rose.

In my eyes, June Yu seems to have a very elegant and plain temperament, and will only bring a slight sadness to a person. Or miss someone or something lightly. Or listen to a sad song and brew a sense of happiness in the melody.

The heavy rains in the south have caused many unpredictable disasters. I was wondering how such a gentle and graceful rain could become so arrogant and ruthless after changing its face. How could this not be like a capricious person? The rain at this time was unruly, but it looked unique and cute, and was full of sweet flavor. It seems that the Buddha has ignited longing. The path that goes around the soul has been spreading to the boundless sky, only to be blocked by a hazy rain curtain, cutting off thousands of rivers and thousands of mountains. At midnight in the summer, the rain fell melodiously on the cement road outside the house, and heavy moisture came out, as misty as smoke, either light or thick and hard to see clearly. The overflowing water vapor entered through the window. Although it was not very majestic, it had a cold smell.

Maybe only the north has such fluctuating temperatures!

Actually, I have been waiting for rain. There are too many longings accumulated in my heart, and I look forward to the nourishment of a rain. I once remembered writing a prose for my wife, "Tonight, let me lean against the window and listen to the rain with you." For a time, the Internet was flooded with such articles. Those articles, which are condensed with my own blood, are actually signed with other people's names, and appear on the top of various websites in a high-sounding way.

I licked the taste of hypocrisy in the rain, and a sense of loss arose spontaneously.

Leaning alone in front of the window, there is the sound of raindrops hitting the tiles in the distance. Nearby, the raindrops are beating the leaves as much as they can, blending with the muddy sound of the raindrops hitting the ground. The rainy night at this time is more like Jiangnan, quiet and light.

The dripping rain gently hits the rubble; it kisses the leaf tips; it seems that it is also dripping in the heart. My thoughts continued like drizzle, which reminded me of Nalan Rongruo’s saying: Mountains are one step away, and water is one step away. . . . . There is no such sound in my hometown!

Falling asleep listening to the light rain, I vaguely dream of my hometown at night, and the fragrance of gardenias is also decadent all over the place. Unknowingly, there was a little more sentimentality in my heart. It is said that people are most sad when they are away from others, especially in the rain.

June is a rainy season. No one can change the changes of seasons. There are no stars or moon in the rainy sky, but many cheerful people don't take it seriously. This kind of rain more or less takes away the solemn heat of summer, but it also has a charm that the moonlit night does not have. Sometimes people can't help but think of Li Shangyin's famous saying "Why should I cut off the candles on the west window, but talk about the rainy night in Bashan". It's just that Li Shangyin's poems contain too much sadness, and now the Tao Lai is a bit desolate.

I think that if you have expectations in your heart, the sun will not wet you.

At least that's what I think at the moment. With the protection of the rainy day, I can stay in bed like a naughty boy. The body stretched out as much as possible and made a soft quilt with the sound of rain.

The messages on my phone kept coming, and I understood that it was also raining in my hometown thousands of miles away. I also understand that my wife made a full pot of rice dumplings with her own hands. She smiled and said she would send me some. . . . .

I said I would send it to you by the way!

In my wife’s mind, rain may not be a bad thing, and she takes advantage of such a rainy day to cultivate herself and recuperate. Don't always remember to play mahjong. It's also good to write. It's best to include me in it.

Then I will write about rain! Rainy night in June. Write about the soothing feeling of rain, the meticulousness of rain, and the tenderness and sweetness of rain. One day when we are old, we will lean against the window and listen to the rain together. . . .

Chapter 6: Prose about Rain

The autumn rain in the countryside is an extension of the joy of the farmhouse. The autumn rain in the countryside is the beginning of the excitement of the farmhouse. The autumn rain in the countryside can make you feel anxious or happy. Slowly, softly, like strands of silk, or scattered in chaos, you can feel your true self and your true existence; you can feel the elusive reality of existence and non-existence in the spiritual space; you can feel the hiddenness deep in your soul. The stillness, the persistence, the indifference, the tranquility, and the passion. The autumn rain in the countryside is tender. "The light rain on the sky street is as moist as crisp" is the warmth and coolness that enters the skin. "The color of the grass looks far away but there is nothing up close" is the desire of people and seasons. "Lying late at night listening to the wind and rain" is the surging excitement. |Love.

Qiu Yu is pure, flawless, fresh and transparent. The nature of Qiu Yu always makes literati ecstatic. Since ancient times, how many literati have endowed her with joy, anger, sorrow, joy, sorrow, loneliness, and carnival; Painting her with colorful colors, including cold, warm, shrinking, and exaggerated, has become a sustenance for literati to express their emotions. What I like the most is Su Dongpo's bold and open-minded mentality: "The bamboo stick and mango shoes can beat the horse, who is afraid? I can live my whole life in the misty rain." Among the many ancient literati, perhaps he was the only one who really understood Qiu Yu.

Autumn rain is the farmer’s expectation for the coming year. The pattering autumn rain has dressed the countryside in charming and solemn clothes. Autumn water, autumn colors, autumn sounds, and the overflowing autumn fragrance are creeping around the countryside, dense and flamboyant, making farmers intoxicated in it. Perhaps many people lament the bleakness of autumn, revealing their confusion about the autumn rain, but I see the longing for the countryside in the autumn rain in the countryside. The autumn rain at this time made the countryside no longer impetuous, anxious, and angry. The tranquility reveals the fullness, enrichment and richness of the farmer's heart. In the free autumn rain, I drank with my fellow villagers, chatted together, and enjoyed the happiness of the farm together. The sound of laughter mixed with the smell of wine permeated the autumn rain, and then fascinated the farmyard. I smiled at the sleeping corn and red peppers under the eaves, and pulled the heavy autumn charm to my side.

I praise the autumn rain. The rustling rhyme of the rain can always make the complete and melodious farm stories more interesting. The harvested land is like a huge timpani, happily listening to the beating and splashing of the raindrops. With countless tiny water splashes. The rainwater flowing in the fields is like thousands of swimming snakes, licking and kissing the countryside affectionately, showing infinite tenderness. Autumn rain uses the most gorgeous words in the dictionary to eulogize. In the season when winter is about to enter, the leaves return, and the migratory birds fly south, it extends in a cycle of existence in a form of survival, using a unique life journey to seal up the perfect days. After that, I regained my emotions and started moving forward with a smile again. Just like a hard-working life, it shows the colorful process and the value of life in a short time.

Living in the countryside, I love autumn rain, and I love life even more.

Chapter 7: Prose about Rain

In the countryside, I like autumn rain. It is crisp, smart and easy-going. When the fruit is ripe, it sings with a soft and fresh melody, like The gurgling clear spring blends into autumn and into everyone's heart. Busy farmers may just embrace the harvest and ignore its existence, but it always plays tenderly in people's ears. You see, it is romantic, stepping on the golden waves of rice, standing on the harvested land, dancing with the lightness of Wal, pattering, unhurried and fluttering. Savor the dance of autumn rain carefully and listen to the voice of autumn rain. In the fresh, elegant and calm rain environment, you can't help but think of the lyrical feelings about autumn rain.

Watching the Rain

The charm of autumn rain can only be seen above the rural land. Walking on the ridge of the fields, holding an umbrella in hand, listening to the sound of rain beating on the umbrella surface, your heart will not help but The earth wants to dance with it. Looking up at the slanted umbrella, the raindrops are like smooth crystals, falling plumply from the sky. If you throw away your umbrella, close your eyes, and let the rain slip over your face, the dripping coolness will make every heartstring tremble, quickly creating a feeling that is both familiar and unfamiliar. At this time, if you can't help but turn the umbrella in a circle, the raindrops will splash around, like a huge turbine, and there will be more childlike fun and joy in the autumn rain.

In the autumn rain, a few old trees with their heads held high in the field blend in with the countryside very kindly. The branches are swaying infatuatedly, either standing upright or stretching, and the leaves rustle and kiss the earth. They are still lively despite the wind and rain, because the rain is its aura and gives it hope. That deep love and lingering have created unchanging loyalty and everlasting splendor in the land.

It can't help but give rise to a swaying impulse and endless reverie. Although the spring rain "sneaks into the night with the wind, moistening everything silently", it is as long and lively as cow hair; the summer rain is too rough, and after all, it is not as lively as it. Suddenly looking back at the real changes in each season of spring, summer, autumn and winter, you may truly believe that the life designed by yourself is illusory, but the self designed by life is real. The most real life may be more like Qiu Yu. Only a life like Qiu Yu can really make people see the color.

Only in the autumn rain in the countryside can we see the rich implications of the depth and loftiness of autumn, and realize the profound expression of the coolness and silence of autumn. Walking slowly in the quiet, elegant, noble and cool autumn rain not only makes you feel relaxed and happy, but also allows you to see the autumn rain's feeling of transcending the troubles of the world, the temptation of the world, climbing high and facing the wind, and forgetting all favors and disgrace. Invisibly, it must be able to broaden one's mind, iron out the wrinkles deep in the soul, and enhance the spiritual realm. Watching the autumn rain in the countryside is refreshing and pleasant. "After the new rain in the empty mountains, the weather comes late in autumn." In the haze, the broadness and openness are stretched, and you feel the endless joy, comfort, tacit understanding and comfort!

Autumn rain has the warmth of spring, the fierceness of summer, and the elegance of winter rain. It also has its own vitality and interest. In the countryside, it is a great talent, picking flowers from trees. The next leaf after leaf, in golden, dark yellow, orange, and brown colors, sticks to the dark brown soil. From a close look, it looks like a new story about farmers getting rich, and from a distance, it looks more like an oil painting with suitable shades. Everything seems so natural and harmonious, so perfect that no trace is left behind. How great!

Listening to the rain

Going deep into the countryside, embracing the land, listening to the rain with one emotion, one state of mind, understanding the falling raindrops, just like understanding the sensational poetry, this is Listen to the true meaning of rain.

The autumn rain in the countryside is a warm voice, "The remaining clouds collect the summer heat, and the new rain brings the mist of autumn"; listening to the rain in the fields after harvest, there is not a speck of dirt in the ground, everything is So pure, transparent, magnanimous and ethereal. The tranquility after the harvest, the tranquility after the harvest, and the endless good news of the harvest in the coolness. The autumn insect in the rain screams very loudly in the grass, but you can't find it when you get close. If you stop and listen quietly, the "duk-duk-chirp" sound will become louder after a while, and the sound will sound like Painted with a layer of autumn colors, it can give you many imaginations about the rhythm of life. In the autumn rain, the fields after harvest look empty and empty. In essence, there is a kind of gain after giving up, a kind of possession after giving, a kind of detachment after pursuit, and an epiphany after persistence.

Autumn rain is a string full of notes. When the hands of the season gently pluck it, the music of nature is everywhere, so harmonious and beautiful. Hearing it, the troubles and impetuosity in my heart were swept away. When everything returned to silence, my heart was still ripples. I admire Qiu Yu's talent for creating beautiful music, which allows people's soul to be quickly sublimated in nature, and suddenly they have the ambition of "Iron Horses Falling into the Glacier"; it's so refreshing that you really want to open your throat and sing.

I don’t understand why the literati of the past would write poems such as “Autumn wind and autumn rain bring sorrow to people” and “The sound of a wu leaf brings autumn, and the sound of banana leaves brings sorrow”. Look at the autumn rain, on the land after the harvest, scrubbing the farmers' sweat stains with passion, making the fields shine brighter, and then seeing the farmers continue to cultivate in the sun, I quietly turn into water vapor, Enjoy the joy in the bright sky, and there is no trace of sadness in the laughter.

Chapter 8: Prose about Rain

Yes, Qiu is originally lonely, originally sad, and originally full of tears. It has no cover-up, no need to hide it, and uses the plainest gesture to deal with all the loneliness, all the sadness, all the tears and all the weakness of the self. There is no shame, no fear of losing face, no fear of being laughed at, no fear of being said to be hopelessly cowardly. It told me to prove to me with my actual actions that I don’t have to be afraid of my own loneliness and sadness, tears and weakness. They are just an emotion, an emotion no different from happiness, confidence, and clarity, and they are just as beautiful. Even more, when you bravely deal with and express these emotions, they become more beautiful.

It was in this loneliness and sadness that I fell in love with Qiu. After falling in love with Qiu, I learned to bravely deal with my negative emotions. What sadness needs is not to force a smile or force oneself to be strong, but what it needs is catharsis. Loneliness requires not pretending not to be a friend, but learning to enjoy loneliness in silence.

In life, how can everything go as planned, and how can we avoid troubles and sorrows? As long as we treat it with a mentality as brave as autumn, as calm as autumn, and as calm as autumn, then we will do it, Bodhi There are no trees, and the mirror is not a stand. There is nothing there, so where is the dust?

There are no dead ends in the world, and there are no obstacles that cannot be overcome. However, there are too many people who try to be strong but fail to be strong in the end. They force themselves into the illusion of boundless misery every life. Why bother! Why bother!