Foreword from the end like in the past in Tibet. Therefore, when within half an hour to make their own decisions and arrangements, actually a little bit slightly surprised. The work is extremely busy, such as the desert of water combined with precious vacation, so I seldom move the idea of traveling. However, one is not a place that attracted me, even allow me to put down the work at hand, and boldly went to the boss before the untimely submitted vacation requests. Why? Really do not know why!

Now, from a busy real life, looking back, it was found a few days in Tibet, by as much as the hearts of so many feelings. It turned out that unconsciously I have been deeply moved ... ...

The Potala Palace, I remember a friend said, standing in front of the Potala Palace, once the soul of sublimation. Really want to have the same experience. However, when I stood before it, raised his head slightly, when they have no trace of ripples, like encounters a stranger looks flat. First saw the Potala Palace, undoubtedly one of disappointment.
Potala Palace, built on mountains, from different angles in Lhasa, you can see it, or near or far, or high ground stands in the bright sunlight, or calm to recline in the afterglow of the disappearing. Suddenly, in a moment, Burton felt his own heart into the Potala Palace. As a result, often from before it passes gently watching the sun always calm but it is bearing remarkable body. The Potala Palace, I did not love at first sight for you but being you have a soft spot Oh!
Potala Palace, the Temple of Tibetan Buddhism, and Buddhist palace along the Yangtze River has very far apart in different architectural styles. Weekdays, we have seen many points Front Hall of the Buddhist temple, nave and apse. Middle Temple, mostly named after Main Hall. The hall must be self-contained, and stand central axis line, was scrupulously axisymmetric shape. Must be located between the Palace and the Temple incense burner, so, candlelight jumping, Smoke filled.
Potala Palace as Dalai Lama's Winter Palace, Palace and the White House in dividends. Red palace of the Dalai Lama dedicated to the ancient pagoda and numerous Buddha statues, the White House for the Dalai Lama's office, parlor and rest areas. The Potala Palace, a thousand-odd temple, or tall, imposing pressing, or low, You-Ran solemn and quiet. Palace and the Temple, or between end to end, or separated by meandering walkways. Deng Lou suddenly, suddenly down along the ladder, or within a dark room into the sunlight of the outer room, or from the light at a huge dim again sneaked into the. Living in the Potala Palace, the King can not distinguish between East and West, up and down about flurried trance indistinct, lost in the bits and pieces, stretches of butter lamps, the immersed in the ubiquitous, exotic incense in the butter.

Turning the wheel on a pictorial seen before in elderly Tibetans, giving her a long gray braids, and carrying a cylinder-shaped thing, his face showing a solemn look. That thing is by the cylindrical wheel, which hidden scriptures. After each turn round again legend, then read it again as the scriptures. Thus, in the rotating sound Kazhilozhi, time quietly through it, thick, black braids into a thin and white. Black and eyes shrunk to a muddy bean point, however, remained steadfast eyes, flashing with eternal faith.
Jokhang Temple, the in the line of the long hallway, put up by the hundreds of rounds, a then one, the endless. After rounds of golden yellow, due to numerous pairs of hands of countless devout blowing everywhere, quintana flashing. The spinning wheel, issued cooing sounds. Was heard in the voice over the year-round echo in the Jokhang Temple, Tibetans were also echoed in the hearts of full of strong religious beliefs.
Can be wheels inside the Jokhang Temple, chanting book, the Potala Palace, the book can live inside the wall, chanting the book. Palace, there are tall side wall, can be difficult to look up beheld the end. Along the barrier is a book from the wall. According to legend, ancient scriptures, layer upon layer, such as the one experienced vicissitudes of the ancient city wall, looking forward to this book Tao wall, clearly felt a force come heavy pressure to me, that is thousands of years Oh!

Huan Xifo Huan Xifo from Indian Buddhism. The concept of people Huan Xifo generally remain in the frolicking in the bedroom, this is very natural, because it hugged Huan Xifo a pair of male and female Shenfo Shenfo. In the Jokhang Temple Hill, after a Buddhist temple and looked to the inside, dark and and what not see, next to an elder explained that the inside light is not working for the Huanxi Fo it! Then, slowly, talking about Huan Xifo story. Long time ago, there was a king of cruel tyranny, the Buddha heard of, then the embodiment of a beautiful woman, Rugong done his woman, in his wisdom the king of probation. In the end, King has become a kind-jun dry. That men and women hugged the Huan Xifo, M Shenfo symbol of mercy, women Shenfo symbolizes wisdom. The story finished, I spent the throngs did not know that Nuebu. Trance, as if its beauty is that women, in order to tenderness victory over mental apathy and evil.
Left Lhasa, the city last night, strolling in the bazaar. A large number of Buddhist statues stand on the shelf, without search, without identification, I suddenly looked to stay in its body. Huan Xifo, you are what kind of a Buddha Oh! Pick up carefully it carefully scrutinize. "Miss Huan Xifo buy it?" Asked the stall holders, speaking in the Chinese language proficiency. Of course, of course! Cried their hearts, and her mouth was saying softly: "Huan Xifo? Huan Xifo tell me the story?." "No story is the talk Nannvzhishi Huanxi Fo's." Stall holders chuckled up next to a stall in Tibetan, and whisper a few eyes volley to me, although smiling, but I have grave do not Nature up. Reddening, he said angrily: "No! Huan Xifo Let me tell you the story." As a result, Speed fast to finish the story, took Huan Xifo escaped Side away.
Today, the lonely, when one person Hou, always likes to Huan Xifo out, lit a stick of incense brought back from Tibet, in the scent-filled atmosphere, the meditation again it is the story, and has never a time when feelings of suffering or raise it pray give me the wisdom, courage and strength.

Sour Milk Drinking Festival is a grand Sour Milk Drinking Festival Tibetan religious festivals. Snow Burton tone for the Tibetan word, which means yogurt. In the Sour Milk Drinking Festival, the meat is not allowed, the yogurt has become the most popular food, and therefore, the Sholton Festival also known as the Yogurt Festival.
Sour Milk Drinking Festival will be kicked off the mountains of Drepung Monastery. At dawn, we started climbing. There is no ready-made stone steps, only people Caichu the mountain. Mountaineering dense crowd, but there is no sense of chaos, without any fuss or voice. Standing halfway up the mountain, take a breather, we saw scattered around the hillside covered with the crowd, in the gray dusk of dawn, slowly creeping towards one direction. Previously, from the book read: hill and dale of the azaleas are blooming, and can not imagine them gorgeous. Today, displayed in front of me was actually the crowd hill and dale. The distance is a continuous blue gray mountains, has been disclosed in the surging a bit of brightly colored clouds. 4 flying over the Smoke, the whole mountain becomes hazy up, Smoke it from every other 35-step have a lit haystacks, the Tibetan pilgrims who, every after - a haystack, then dropped a little blue in unknown grass. It is also an endless stream of smoke will be pouring, emitting a unique fragrance to the atmosphere express a whole mountain air of mystery.
Ya on the mountain next to Drepung, high to hang the giant statues of Buddha. Buddha by the colorful woven silk embroidery made of colorful and calm, dignified and lively patterns. Buddha's great cover nearly the entire cliff. When the Oriental Buddha's first dynasty, to invest in that moment, breathless from the surrounding ring. At this point, the air came a deep, rich voice, like an aging lion, issued by the roar toward the setting sun, Although glory is not in, but disclosed the incomparable dignity. This is the prelude to chant. Buddha is sitting in an orderly manner across the 100 to a Buddhist monk's robe draped in a red-brown yarn monks, the most front row sat the three eldest had a high respected lama. The middle of one of the most solemn look, eyes very far apart, he is the lead core of the elders. Collar chant is completed, followed by Qi Zhong Seng chant. Song Deng, Qi chant, again and again, like a well-trained choir, lead to drink, harmony ups and downs, in harmony. In chanting, the pilgrimage of people have bowed to the Buddha front, in such an atmosphere, I naturally did not Buddhist devotees hands together, eyes Weibi, moment, desires, no thoughts, no intention, while the body I do not know where.
Show Buddha chanting ceremony is over, suddenly lively atmosphere on the slopes together. Tibetans are mostly from his family or sit. Took out the women are busy with their own food, the men chatting together, the old one while crawling around in your mouth to eat, while looking around, the children are giggling called downtown to run around, and in the woman's arms sleeping.
The sun came out, the entire mountain from the blue gray turn into a bright green. Days, high blue and distant, under the blue sky clouds over the Tibetans are happy.
Tian Zangtai to Lhasa the first evening, was arranged in the room break. Where are willing, they secretly slipped out. Looked for a taxi. "Master, took me to stroll around the bar!" Driving teacher was a young Han Chinese man who undaunted, presumably taxi drivers used to have a clear destination. He thought for a quite a while and said: "Go not to Tianzang Tai?." Oh, Tian Zangtai! Remembered an article describing burial. Dimly recall such a scenario: goshawk circling in the air gray issue a sharp, short of disastrous calls, a long time to reverberate in the Tian Zangtai the air. I fell into the article, the indistinct indistinct in trance. "Miss, to go or not go?" "Oh, of course, it certainly go." I suddenly woke up, he kept in a stack, said.
Car is moving in the direction of sunset opened gradually, and distant hills faded in warm clouds, stretching into a gray one. Car began to bump up. When you drive rickety open mountainous pile of rocks on a slope, the driver said, pointing to the front. Out of the car, set foot on a pile of chaos Shek Kong, in front of a flood with a broad shallow everywhere, exposed surface of the rocks, occasionally on end a bunch of sparse grass, green was listlessness, slightly to shiver in the wind.
The other side across the river is a barren, arid leaving only varying shades of gray. However, the party platform, unexpected foot of the mountain was immersed in a thick dark brown in the. I wonder in my face turned to the driver, "This is a person who after years of bloodshed." He smoked a cigarette while narrowing his eyes while looking at the distance. My heart is at once dignified up. "That hut is home to Tian Zangshi it!", He added. The platform next to the lying still with a small stone hut, with a touch of smoke emitting from the inside. Tian Zangshi cook dinner in it! He only boiled rice of a person, because he had no wife and no child-free woman, alone. Accompanied with his only year-round Tianzang Tai, goshawk, and the small stone house. The occasion of the spring and summer nights, and perhaps Washeng insects, while the winter nights, I am afraid that only house call hum accompanied by cold winds, and Tian Zangshi as a special profession, deeply respected Tibetans, however, this respect due to religion, with a cold distance. Few people are willing to marry his daughter and wife of the Tianzang Shi. Gone with the wind looking at the smoke, Bitter Heart, which no one cold foot of the mountains, there is a real-life life ah! "It's already too old Buxing Le Tian Zangshi, fast die bar!" Says the driver threw a cigarette, Youde said. My tears will be down.
The sky is not goshawk, however, I clearly saw a white-haired elderly, eyes dead, their faces expressionless in the Tian Zangtai on the crafts, although skilled way, but obviously insufficient. The elderly over the goshawk are jitter black wings, mournful to screaming a long time to refuse to leave.

Tibetan mountain we went to Lhasa, four hours drive away from Yamzhoyum Lake. Car first entered the mountains look to the road will be disappointed, and turned out a particularly large number of this year's rainfall, triggering flash floods, many mountain was causing it to collapse. Of course, the big heavy bus only to turn around away dejected. The next way to rely on their own path, or taking a military jeep or on foot, all the way to the destination embarked.
That Tibetan mountain stone storing multi-residential, although simple and endless, but it is also the house is a house wall is a wall, orderly and unambiguous. On the wall, roof can be seen everywhere on the wind and the drift of color cloth to wipe a few gray of the stone to bring vitality and light-colored. That colorful strips of cloth symbolizes good luck.
Tired, find a stone to sit down, drink or eat. Not far from there three or four children, dirty stood there, quietly looking at me, I put more bread on a clean stone, quietly away. Out of the 10 steps away, could not help but look back, that the number of children are eating Nazhi focus to bread. Haoguai child ah! They are poor, but never beg.
Continue to forward their progress, but also a fracture of the mountain. Lu has been a turbulent flow cut off. Standing on one end of the road, watching the other end, not knowing what to do. Suddenly a large hand stretched to me come, I was surprised, a Tibetan mountain face stubble, hair disorder canopy canopy standing in front of me. He single-handedly with other people discarded food, first-hand graceful stretch to me to. Without a moment's hesitation, I put my hand to him, I know, I will be safe. He jumped out of water, almost drowned out his knee in his back, clearly felt his foot stepping on the rocks of varying shades. Water splashed flow, occasionally spills Jiduo spray hit me.
To the other side, my hands together, to thank him a slight smile from his face was dark and dirty, they watch, poor and virtuous people ah!

Conclusion Tibet ago, I excitedly to his friends, said: I'm going to Tibet啦! Return later, it was asked, but said quietly: I went to Lhasa.
Tibet, this magical land, like a courtyard, which bears numerous rooms and Road could not finish the story. And I just pushed open the courtyard, he hastily looked inside North Korea - and the next nothing.
Tibet, not yearning for you, now, but deeply in love with you know!

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Author: coolly