Chapter 68 garden of the cross

She said, "Not going! It's just cold out there—" It was "just cold and cloudy" there; yet I deeply felt that there, my thoughts often immediately calmed down beyond the daily life.Should there be some thoughts in life, beyond the daily life? I believe that spring is here, and the branches are slightly green; sitting alone on the rocks and reading some of your favorite poems under the secluded and quiet tree among the parallel crosses is also the most memorable moment in your life. thing! Accompanied by only the old man sweeping flowers!Only the birds on the trees!Do they also have their own feelings?The city wall cut off my outward sight, and only deeply closed my thoughts in this circle!

She said: "Life is too miserable here—" Is it true?Why can't we figure it out?Even though everything in the world can be doubted, the cross that signifies the end of our life cannot be doubted and cannot be doubted.It stood there, waiting for us, before it was born.Friends from before!Eternal companion after death!Why do we regard it as miserable? Here, I only have a still heart, deep and misty thoughts, and the "melancholy" slightly tinged with enlightenment and joy. Is this kind of thinking from heaven or from the world?Maybe it's not, but to me it's beyond the usual realm!

The flowers are withering, the stones are peeling off, and the film is blurred; but what effect does it have on the sleeping people?They have returned the joys and sorrows in history to the world, and they are enjoying their final rest with a smile! It was so still!Very deep!Beside the contemplative stone statue, the sleeping man from a foreign land, here, all boundaries are eliminated, we are only separated by a mysterious cross! Can old words describe new feelings?If possible, let me introduce you to meet each other: the blue sky, the extreme boundless—this is heaven and earth! "Death" Oh!Rise up and praise it, the end of silence, the everlasting rest.

Humans! Fall in love!We are all travelers on a long journey towards the same destination. my friend! Isn't it too sad? The spring of "death" is the last drop under the tip of the pen. February 15, 1922. (This article was originally published in "Morning News" on March 3, 1922.)