红绝| (hong jue)

Dancing on the clouds there's a fairy palace
Red silk altar, dark bell attracting butterfly pupa
Ghostly secrets hidden in enchanting dreams
Particularly cautious, stealing a glance at the red attire

The ancient courtyard in the fairy wind is like emptiness
Red threads green like the late spring wind
In the dimness, dancing moon, dreaming dragon
Gently, with its wish, sending the lamp

In this vast world, flowers fill the city for you
The bright cannon fires, directly revealing the hidden life
Grant me the honor to replace your late-night magic, welcoming grace
Rising again without asking the end, only one person in the heart

May the passing of a hundred lifetimes be like a perpetual lamp
Capable of anything, facing the past, shining light on the present
Residing in the floating dust, daring to steal the fire of desire
The solitude of a hermit, wishing the remaining life to be a gift

The ancient courtyard in the fairy wind is like emptiness
Red threads green like the late spring wind
In the dimness, dancing moon, dreaming dragon
Gently, with its wish, sending the lamp

If the body can be moved by memories
In the mind, fearlessly experiencing joy and understanding
Impermanence scatters, life and death are hard to extinguish, deep in love and righteousness
Seeing people, seeing shadows, until the light breaks the red dream

The heart has a thousand knots, memories trapped in the mirror
In the illusion, quietly waiting for the day to admit
Peach blossom water, warm but not as warm as the sound of the red clothes in the wind
Willing to change belief, hoping it won't end

In this vast world, flowers fill the city for you
The bright cannon fires, a heart full of astonishment
Grant me the honor to replace your career, the fire always burning, to be reborn
Rising again without asking the end, only one person in the heart

May the passing of a hundred lifetimes be like a perpetual lamp
Capable of anything, for the world's sorrows and hatred
Residing in the floating dust, in the cycle of reincarnation, we will meet again
The solitude of a hermit, wishing the remaining life to be a gift