Is suffering more noble?

The blow of a heinous fate

Or take up arms against difficulties,

End them by opposing them. Die-sleep-

No more; Said we ended our sleep.

Heartache and thousands of natural shocks.

The heir of the flesh. This is a complete

I sincerely hope. Death-sleep.

Sleep-maybe dream: alas, that's the problem!

Because what kind of dreams will there be in the sleep of death?

When we get rid of the fetters of the world,

We have to pause. This is respect.

This is such a long-lived disaster.

Who can stand the whipping and ridicule of time,

The mistakes of the oppressor, the rudeness of the proud,

The pain of despised love, the delay of law,

The arrogance and disgust of the office.

The advantage of unworthy patience,

When he can be quiet himself

Bare ass? Who will these Fadel people put up with,

Groaning and sweating in a tired life,

But the fear of things after death-

An undiscovered country, from whose border?

No travelers come back-confused will,

Let's rather put up with our diseases.

Than fly to places we don't know?

Therefore, conscience does make us all cowards,

So the resolution of the natural hue.

Covered with pale thoughts,

And the essence and moment of the enterprise.

At this point, their trend has changed.

Lose the name of action.

To be or not to be? This is a problem.

Which is more noble, to endure the ruthless destruction of violent fate and stand up, to confront endless troubles and sweep them away?

When you die, sleep is over. If sleep can end the trauma of our hearts and the thousands of kinds of pains suffered by our bodies, it is really a survival requirement.

What a wonderful thing. Go to hell, sleep and maybe dream!

Even if I get rid of this world, what dreams will I have in this dead sleep? Think about it, this kind of care makes people suffer for life.

Who is willing to endure whipping and ridicule, oppression, humiliation and contempt, the pain of lovelorn, the delay of the imperial court and the imposition of the yamen?

Greed and obscure efforts will only bring more humiliation. But he can get rid of himself with a sharp knife.

No one wants to moan and sweat, dragging this remnant life, but he feels fear after death, and no one has ever come back from the land of death.

Therefore, they wavered, preferring to endure the present suffering rather than go to another kind of suffering.

Worry has turned us all into cowards and cast a pallid face on our decisive nature. We could have achieved great things.

I lost my ability to act because of thinking.