Dunhuang poetry recitation

Text/Chen Runmin

The crescent spring is magical, and there is no golden light in Mingsha Mountain.

The eaves of the nine-story cave are restrained and brilliant under the brown cliff.

A thousand buddhas, a dream for a thousand years, is better than gathering sand into a tower.

Countless desires, filtering of spring water, splendid murals.

The greatest art palace in the world is hidden in caves and blue sky.

Mo Yan. Where does the number one Buddha in the room look?

Silk Road Flower Rain, Lamp Jade Pot Luminous Cup, Old People's Sunshine Pass,

They are all gold-plated for life. The air is full of mottles.

One by one, the green trees failed to keep their treasures, so they established' Dunhuang studies'.

On the dry river bed,

Wine was brewed in the Mogao Grottoes, and the mountains and rivers were drunk. Since then,

The moon plays the lute everywhere, and Wan Li flies all over you.