Though there is bitterness, it isn't lonely. My memory isn't very good. Once a wound has scabbed over, I forget the pain. I don't play the zither beneath a Chinese pistache tree, but can delight in wheezing out a rustic melody on a tuneless flute ....
「一路行來固多荊棘崚巘、窮山惡水，但也有好風好景的柳暗花明，雖是艱苦備嘗，卻也並不孤寂，我的記性不太好，膿瘡一結痂便忘了疼痛不快，黃連樹下我不彈琴，卻能短笛無腔的哼著村謠俚曲自找樂子……」