“Burn, for your ashes will be the nourishment for the next spring.” — Friedrich
Part 1
The traveler crosses the road ahead
Walking through a wilderness
Forgetting the loneliness of the journey
Approaching a dried-up river
An old farmer, leaning against a withered tree, in tattered clothes
His eyes slightly open, expression dazed, as if still unawakened
Traveler:
Sir, I have observed you from afar
Why do you bow to the earth, facing the bitter wind?
Old man:
Dear traveler, I was once your companion
But due to my arrogance, I fled from the all-knowing Him
Building a tower to the heavens, yet facing countless obstacles
If you insist on moving forward, you must bear the consequences
The old man paused, seemingly struggling to speak
And kept the rest of his words to himself, unwilling to reveal the riddle
Part 2
His words were so sincere
Yet the traveler understood not a word
Only fragments
Spoken from aging vocal cords
But due to a curse
Turned into hoarse murmurs
In decay, the lilies weep
In withering, they hysterically
Bloom again
Buried in the wasteland
Resting point
Traveler:
My friend, you seem troubled
I do not understand your advice
I wish to call you a broken-winged gladiator
To escape this land
No longer belittling the solitary wing
No longer fearing and hiding
Spread your wings and fly high, you should be the new hope
Clouds and rain surge
Every inch of land crumbles
Too late to grow full wings
The Lord of Heaven wants him to escape in disgrace
Part 3
Traveler:
People always return to silence in mediocrity
Yet they are constantly seeking
That long-sealed truth
To break free from the miracles suffered since childhood
Creating a world for all beings
The ruler will remain silent
One day
The highest deity will also, out of fear
Unite into thousands of races
Transform life, aging, sickness, and death into blood pain
Using the happiness promised by heaven
To gain the faith of all beings
Ah! Devout believers
I want you to awaken
No longer coveting peace in images
Climb to the peak of the gods
To glimpse the deity that rules you and me
Part 4
Fourth part
The earth returns to calm
The sky regains brightness
Wild grass, shrubs, forests
Siblings, clans, close relatives
At the beginning of creation, all things are renewed
A solemn voice
A magnificent and complete figure
Watching you in the formless
God:
I will grant you forgiveness
Lost children who have gone astray
Abandon the clutter in your heart
I will return to your heart
Come, lost child
Come, do not remain silent
Sodom, I will take you away from this city
Old man:
Oh heaven, I will no longer sing praises to you
When you wield the slaughter knife against the innocent young and old
When you unleash anger
Upon the towers forged from blood and sweat
When you let disaster
Fall upon the homeland we rely on
You want people to have virtue
Yet you are filled with sin
You ignite endless raging fires
Time and again crossing through our territory
This wasteland, filled with ashes and yellow sand
Should have been our perfect home
I can only use my already withered thoughts
To overthrow your towering idol
Traveler:
Old man, do not spill your illusions
This vessel will roll up dark clouds and raging waves
The omniscient and omnipotent God
Has already stepped into the lonely grave
You are merely human
A group
Of soon-to-die people
Powerful people
People who hoard wealth
People who flatter and scheme
But no one listens to you anymore
Your hollow words
And no one believes
To easily betray
The world is now perfect, filled with divine charm
Unaware that floods are raging, and life cannot escape death
Oh highest Lord, I will no longer yield to your wrath
You bring healing and happiness
When you bring down calamity, so cruel
Humble people bow to you
Willing to be slaves of God
Everywhere entangled
You have given us races
You have made us kill each other
We no longer seek your arrival
Countless spirits
Will awaken from their burial places
Awaken
Part 5
Is everything over? Perhaps it has long been forgotten. The traveler said he saw the first rebel. And this person, this being, has a body eroded by time, with thick and hot blood surging within him, the brown-red tide repeatedly washing the intertwined delicate new branches. As he approached that miracle, an unnamed rage disfigured him, and the pain of burning made his soul scatter. He struggled, using a charred finger covered in flames to touch that kind and benevolent figure. Deceit, lies, everything was set ablaze by him. Twisted and hideous, eerie and terrifying, a skeleton wrapped in a tattered wool coat, feathers close to decay, the pen tip long dried, the incomplete scroll filled with solemn doctrines written in Latin. Then the old man shouted: “Run, the old world is behind you!” His voice was hoarse, like the sound of insects flapping their wings, and his condition was no different from that of the living dead.
The traveler wanted to do something, but a survival instinct made him lose control of his body. He ran wildly, the surroundings became blurry, the front became silent, heedlessly moving forward, later even his spirit detached as a ghost from the endlessly operating machine. He suddenly gasped, the long-silent gravity suddenly pulled his soul back to the present. Collapsing to the ground, the scenery behind had already changed, he wanted to find the old man, but in a daze, he saw a glaring scarlet orb rising in the sky. He hurriedly rubbed his eyes, and the orb suddenly expanded, reaching its peak before shrinking back into a small ball.
The heavens hung low, the world looked up, the sphere grew thick roots, deeply embedding into the living beings of the earth, everything turned into nourishment for this plant, until the bright red fruit continuously differentiated into human-like outlines.
Could that be a person?
2025.11.8