At that moment, I met the clouds that I longed for, and I removed some of the glitz of the world;

At that moment, I felt the holy bathing and washed away the haze deposited on the road;

At that moment, I touched the moving legend and lamented the fate of the robbery;

Confused, confused and obsessive, disappeared in an instant.

Arrived at La Rong Wu Ming Buddhist College.

I am amazed by the large scale of the red house built on the mountain and neatly arranged.

It’s so silent, I don’t want anything, it’s like going back to the initial state of the person, but not quite.

From the heartbeat to the gradual peace of mind, I finally feel silent, fully feel the original, sacred, ethereal.

Large red houses, monks in red robes, and scrolls that are constantly turning on the fingertips of the smart,

The chanting of the ear…

The various kinds of dreams that have appeared in my dreams have ignited the heart of my heart that will be extinguished.

That’s right, here is the color.


Uninterrupted snow falls like a goose, and the sun rises from one side and disappears on the other side.

The world of Seda is red and white, white and red.

Sodaji Khanbu said that the root of human suffering is the only attachment!


At night, perhaps because of altitude sickness, headache, insomnia, and thoughts.

This is really an exciting and crazy place, the snow peaks, the sky,

What is given to me is not only the holy water of Qishan, but also the revelation of life. It is a firm and persistent feeling.

Blizzard is not invited, dancing all over the sky, such as flowers drifting to the earth valleys, mountains, and time to have the world.

In the twilight, in the snow, people have been worshipping.

Skillful action, full of piety…..


This must be a destiny in the midst of it.

The white snow that is not stained with dust,

That pure blue sky,

Looking at your devout worship,

I feel the warmth of faith.


The children in the snow, their childhood sorrows have met each other.

Blue sky, white snow is in front of you, childhood twins, simple people,

They are still “““`

I am convinced that my soul is being called back and the city is left behind.


The public, both young and old.

Spring breeze, summer warm sun, autumn afterglow, winter snow,

Here, the worshippers use the body to measure the pace of each season.

Only for the purification of the soul.

On that day, I closed my eyes in the mist of the temple, and I heard the truth in your chanting;

In that month, I shake all the cylinders, not for the super-degree, just to touch your fingertips;

That year, the long head squatted on the mountain road, not to be seen, just to keep your warmth;

That time, turning the mountains and turning the water to the stupa, not for the sake of repairing the students, only to meet you on the way.


High clean clouds, quiet water,

The good day of the auspicious day, people sacredly touched it with their foreheads.

A myth that only prays for the believers.

This must be the destined yearning, waking up from the dream.

Working together in the snow, bathing in the whispering sun,

Call back the color of the dream that has long been waiting in the heavens.

Looking at the high blue sky, watching the breath of his exhalation,

In the air, it forms ice, as if everything has solidified: life, time, emotion…


In the mandala, the relatives took the dead together to complete the final journey of life.

On the altar of the setting sun, the priest’s knife is tightly held in his hand.

Pointing to the depths of the sky, there is no sound, silence and loneliness.

Born, time stamped with a spell, thrown into the end of the gradual disappearance.

Seda is the myth in your heart

The silent wilderness, the countless arms that stretch out in the darkness, hug each confessed body.

When the light fades away, the Condor soars in the sky, and the sinful soul is far from heaven.

the sky is very blue.

The air is purely burning, and the eagle glides across the sky.

In the distance, there is still a holy call, and one pilgrim, regardless of age, repeats a consistent movement.

The long roads, leaving their persistent footprints and the yearning for heaven again and again.

Nirvana is lonely and longing for the next reincarnation.