v The Lost Symbol
The symbol is a seed handed down from my ancestors
That can grow into Buddha's lock and a blue moon
It is the food given by gods
The buckwheat and oats that feed me
It is the flaming divine twigs
That can burn up the bodies lying on their left and right sides
Guiding the souls to their sweet immortal dwellings
It is the wandering songs and wine
Of my people, who revel in them and
Can no longer，either drunken or awake,return to their homeland
Come, come to the tip of my pen
Let me keep your
Pregnancy of a thousand years
Come, come to my canvas
Let me melt in your
Solitude of one hundred years
Or, let me in your radiance
Rest with a silent joy forever
[translated by Crossover]
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