百鸟归巢,夜色寂静,古老的村庄再次沉默在天地间。雪白的墙体,在树枝摇曳间若隐若现,如同泽仁老人摇动的经筒,仿佛已经更替了几个世纪。火塘内的火苗,犹如蛇头吞吐的舌尖,时而燃烧,时而熄灭。泽仁老人右手转动着陪伴她三十余年的玛尼经筒,左手捻动着菩提佛珠,双目紧闭,仿佛一位千年的行者修炼着浮动不已的世俗之心。 Hundreds of birds homing, quiet night, the ancient village once again silence between heaven and earth. White walls, looming in the swaying branches, as Zeze elderly shaking through the tube, as if it has been replaced for centuries. Flame inside the fire, like snake head and throat tongue, sometimes burning, sometimes extinguished. Zeren’s old man turned his right hand to accompany Mannah, who had accompanied her for more than thirty years. His left hand was twisting the Bodhi beads, his eyes closed, as if a thousand years of practitioners practiced the floating secular heart.