Chapter 7 7

81 In the endless watch, you listen to my approaching footsteps.Thy joy gathers in the morning light, and bursts forth into beams of light. The closer I am to you, the more passionate the sea dances. Your world is a bunch of flowers woven by light, held in your hands, and your heaven is in my secret heart; In shy love, it blooms petal by petal. 82 When I am alone, sitting in meditation, I cannot help calling out your name. I will call out your name without words or purpose. Because I am like a child who calls mother a hundred times and takes pleasure in being called "Mom".

83 1 I feel that all the stars are shining in my heart. The world flooded into my life like a flood. Hundreds of flowers bloomed in my body. All the youthful vigor of land and water rises within me like a wick of incense; and the breath of earth and creatures blows through my thoughts like on a flute. 2 When the world falls asleep, I come to your door. The stars are silent, and I dare not sing. I waited and watched until your shadow flitted across the balcony of the night, and I returned contented. Then in the morning I sang along the roadside; Bunches of flowers by the hedge echo my singing, and the morning wind listens.

Travelers stopped suddenly and stared at my face, thinking that I had called their names. 3 Leave me at your door, at your will, and let me run about your kingdom at your call. Don't let me sink and disappear in the dreary abyss. Don't let my life be torn to shreds by emptiness. Don't let those doubts -- those disturbing dust -- surround me. Don't make me go out of my way to accumulate wealth. Don't let me bend my mind to be at the mercy of the majority. Let me stand tall and proud to be your servant. 84 Do you hear the distant murmur of death? Do you hear the call from the sea of ​​fire and the cloud of poison?

—it was the captain who told the helmsman to steer the ship to an unknown shore, for the time of stagnation is past in the port where the same old goods are bought and sold in endless circles, where dead things float on In the dry and empty reality. Waking up from sudden terror, they asked: "What time has the clock struck, my fellows? When will dawn come? " Dark clouds rolled in, obscuring the stars—who could see day beckoning? They ran out with oars, the bed was empty, the mother prayed, the wife stood by the door silently watching; A burst of parting wailing rushed to the sky.

In the darkness came the captain's call again: "Sailors, set sail, the time in port is over!" All the black evil in the world has run rampant, however, oarsmen, take your places, and bury the sad blessing deep in your heart! Brother, who do you blame?bow your head! It is your sin, and it is our sin. The heat that has grown in God's heart for many years—the cowardice of the weak, the arrogance of the strong, the greed of the rich, the resentment of the victim, the pride of race, the insult to man—has broken God's calm and roared in the storm. Let the storm tear my heart apart like a ripe pod and turn into scattered thunder.

Shut your mouths, stop slandering others and bragging about yourself. Print the peace of silent prayer on the forehead, and sail to the nameless shore. Every day we meet sin, we meet death; They pass over our world like clouds, and taunt us with a fleeting flash of laughter. Suddenly, they stopped laughing and became frightened. One must stand before them and say, "We are not afraid of you, O devil! For we live day after day by conquering you, and we die with the firm belief that peace is real and goodness is true, and the Eternal God is true!" If immortality does not dwell in the heart of death, if cheerful wisdom blooms not from the sheath of sorrow, if sin does not die in self-disclosure, if pride does not weigh down under the burden of vanity, then drive these rowers out Where does the hope of homeland come from?Like the stars rushing toward death in the twilight?

Shall the blood of the martyrs and the tears of mothers be lost in the dust of the earth?Can't they win heaven at such a price? Is it not the moment when mortals break through the shackles of the flesh, the moment when the unrestrained God manifests himself? 85 Song of the Loser My master bade me sing a song of failure as I stood by the road, for failure is the bride he secretly pursues. She had been veiled black to hide her face from the crowd, but the jewels on her breast gleamed in the darkness. She was forsaken by day, and God's night awaited her with lighted lamps and dew-moistened flowers.

Her eyes were lowered, and she was silent; she had left her family behind, and from her home the night wind wails from time to time. However, Fanxing sang an eternal love song in front of a face that was so beautiful due to shyness and pain. Already the door of the lonely abode is opened, the voice of the call has sounded, and the heart of the night is trembling with the imminent tryst. 86 I am grateful to those who walk on the road of arrogance, trampling on the lives of the lowly, and their bloody footprints cover the tender green of the earth. Let them celebrate their day, Lord, thank you.

What I am grateful for is that my destiny is connected with the lowly who suffer and endure the oppression of the powerful.They covered their tearful eyes in the dark, weeping and swallowing. For every painful sob of theirs throbs in your secret night heart, and every insult they suffer merges into your great silence. But tomorrow belongs to them. Rise, O sun, from the bleeding heart, and bloom the flowers of the dawn, and dread the torches of pride and revelry to ashes.