I stood upon a highway,
And, behold, there came
Many strange peddlers.
To me each one made gestures,
Holding forth little images, saying,
“This is my pattern of God.
Now this is the God I prefer.”
But I said, “Hence!
Leave me with mine own,
And take you yours away;
I can’t buy of your patterns of God,
The little gods you may rightly prefer.”
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We are all specific, nothing could be same to us.
We have our own tasks, our own roads, and our own god.
There is no need to care too much about what is others’ god.
不要仰望别人，自己亦是风景。