Poem: March in London

Fine rain and gentle wind
Make one once again touch upon
The memory of a previous life
Gorgeous dusk
Ivy underneath the setting sun

Time flows by like water
Layers upon layers
Mirror of age
Azure and distant
A life is like a beautiful flower or piece of jade
A shadow chasing waves

In another March of this ancient city
There might be a poet who walked around while reciting poems
Standing in the rain and singing as the best year of his life went by
In the midst of impenetrable attachments
Feasted upon the tens of thousands joys and sorrows of a life time

Maybe there was a free-spirited beggar
Underneath the chilly wind and bright moon, day after day
Asking where life starts and where it ends
Accompanied by the sound of his footsteps covering the ninety-nine thousand miles
He walked through all the gains and losses of this material world

In one instant he obtained enlightenment
[..]