They hated and killed and men praised them.

But God in shame hastens to hide its memory under the green grass.

This world is the world of wild storms kept tame with the music of beauty.

Let my doing nothing when I have nothing to do become untroubled in its

depth of peace like the evening in the seashore when the water is silent.

The best does not come alone.

It comes with the company of the all.

Let him only see the thorns who has eyes to see the rose.

The night's silence, like a deep lamp, is burning with the light of its milky way.

Wayside grass, love the star, then your dreams will come out in flowers.

Let your music, like a sword, pierce the noise of the market to its heart.

Truth raises against itself the storm that scatters its seeds broadcast.

I have suffered and despaired and known death and I am glad that I am in this great world.

Let this be my last word, that I trust thy love.

初闻不知曲中意，再闻已是曲中人。

既然已是曲中人，何必再听曲中曲。

曲中轻忆梦中人，梦醒时分叹红尘。

曲终人散梦已醒，何处再寻梦中人。

梦中合唱凤求凰，梦醒独奏离别赋。

即知曲人存于梦，何故执于曲外人。

多少痴梦多少等，难诉痴情曲中人。

一萧一页红尘事，一弦一曲了人生。

既然已是曲中人，何必再悟曲中意。