Beautiful choice — that poem captures such quiet depth. Here's a reflection in English that weaves in its imagery and essence, without naming the author or the poem title:
There is a kind of peace that doesn’t come from certainty, but from walking through life’s storms and finding that, somehow, the weight has lifted. I often return to a few lines that stay with me like a whisper: “A chilly spring breeze wakes me from my wine; it's a little cold. Yet the sun slants warmly over the mountain as if to greet me. I turn and look back on the desolate places I’ve passed — and go home. No wind, no rain, no clear skies. Just calm.”
There’s no triumph, no dramatic resolution — only a quiet clarity. It reminds me that after all the ups and downs, the heart learns not to cling to labels like joy or sorrow. Things are just as they are, and that's enough. The way the breeze chills, how the sun leans — life meets you where you are.
Would you like a Chinese companion piece to this? Or a prose version for sharing with others?