文学艺术

          Three lives ------Generation after generations (one)

                       The reason comes 

     The Buddha closes one's eyes  

     Lowers the head ponders

     Flower bloom and fade

     Only the grass does not wither

    The grass is being supine the clear face  reckless  painful one inch leaves the soil  Is only and he is nearer  Even if a point One hao

    His fair face  Pretty under has the very straight nose  His vision lovingly actually ever not for grass pause  Even if one time   Also good 

    The Buddha opens eyes 

    Long time sighs

    Unreasoning passion