举头不见繁华色。繁华色。空华杂乱,世人贪得。
译文:抬头望去,看不到那繁华的景象。所谓的繁华,不过是虚幻杂乱的,而世人却贪恋不已。
现实是一个视角问题;你离过去越远,它看起来就越具体和可信——但当你接近现在时,它不可避免地显得越来越不可思议。
最终,我们都是故事,只是要让它成为一个好故事。
"What is a poet? An unhappy person who conceals profound anguish in his heart but whose lips are so formed that as sighs and cries pass over them they sound like beautiful music."