The Aesthetic Art of Blood-Drenched Climbers

Xuefeng

Dec. 19, 2021

The brilliant starlight, emanates from their own burning energy,

The dazzling and stunning blossoms, fully revealing their beauty,

The silhouette of the blood-drenched climber, is the most poignant scenery in the world,

The utmost beauty in the world is not the lice feasting to their fill, but the busy flight of bees over mountains and rivers.

You, in tattered clothes, covered in wounds, blood flowing,

Repeated blows and ravages aiming to extinguish you,

With roads, power, and water cut off, severing your lifeline, you are forced to seek an end,

With your means of livelihood cut off, you are compelled to beg and flatter,

With an unwavering iron will, you stand tall and fearless against adversity,

How can the children of the Greatest Creator be toppled by demons?

You are a god-like being, shining with divine light,

Even if crawling barefoot, you will reach the sacred mountain.

The arrogance of power is akin to a raging wind,

The cruelty of eagles and hounds seeks to tear you apart,

The vulgar clamor aims to pierce you like arrows,

And the avoidance and cold stares of relatives and friends make you shed tears.

The phoenix rises from the ashes amidst the blazing flames,

Mockery, sarcasm, ridicule, suppression, and ravages only serve to strengthen your determination,

Insults, curses, accusations, and indifference fortify your beliefs,

Time and again, you are driven out of your home,

Struggling with hunger and cold, with nowhere to settle, you feel disheartened and weary,

Whether in deserts, the Gobi, forests, or grasslands,

Everywhere, the biting cold wind entwines like a ghost,

Boundless darkness engulfs the brilliant dawn of life.

Since destiny has decreed that you are meant for greatness,

The hardships on the journey to the sacred mountain are commonplace,

Twists and turns are merely mud underfoot,

Wolves, insects, tigers, leopards, cliffs, and precipices cannot deter you,

The path to the celestial island was never smooth,

How can one traverse the towering waves in comfort and ease,

And there are countless peaks to scale and overcome,

The picturesque mountains and rivers await beyond the final mountain.

Once you halt, you will lose yourself in the desolate cries of ghosts and wolves,

Living in misery will reduce you to a pile of bones left unclaimed,

The wind howls and the world is cold, yet your steps towards the Celestial Islands Continent remain firm,

Even amidst countless difficulties and dangers, you will not turn back until you reach the sacred mountain.

This is the style of pioneers,

This is the vanguard of the new era,

This is the cream of humanity,

This is the aesthetic art of blood-drenched climbers ascending to the Celestial Islands Continent.

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