What can I do，in this bustling world，with my days flying in their escape？Nothing but to hesitate，to rush. What have I been doing in that eight-thousand-day rush，apart from hesitating？Those bygone days have been dispersed as smoke by a light wind，or evaporated as mist by the morning sun. What traces have I left behind me？Have I ever left behind any gossamer traces at all？I have come to the world，stark naked；am I to go back，in a blink，in the same stark nakedness？It is not fair though：why should I have made such a trip for nothing！
你聪明的，告诉我，我们的日子为什么一去不复返呢？1922.3.28
You the wise，tell me，why should our days leave us，never to return？28 March，1922
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