The warmth dulls my senses as I walk toward the ҒДЯ ϻΦƱЍŦДǂЍƧ.
I sing my songs that I might remember the joy of life and remain alive.
How long have I been lying here with my ƧĦДÐΦʬ? How long have I been lost to productivity?
I know now that I am better served by tiredness than rest, for a struggle is always more aesthetically and practically pleasing than slumber.
Posted Apr 7, 2013, 12:20 PM UTC
I am still curious about the stones. Are you headed in the same direction? They too head for the ҒДЯ ϻΦƱЍŦДǂЍƧ.
wнy αre yoυ leαvιɴɢ тнe тree?
Do they? Perhaps we shall journey there together.
Ħєяє ίи тнίs тяєє, ǂ мαγ đo lίттlє єlsє вυт sρєαӄ тo γoυ, вυт ǂ нαvє вєєи тo тнє ҒДЯ ϻΦƱЍŦДǂЍƧ вєfoяє- fяoм тнєίя sυммίт, мγ voίcє мαγ sтίll вє нєαяđ, тнє ωαтєя ωнίcн floωs тнєяє ίs fαя sωєєтєя тнαи αиγ ίи тнίs loиєlγ foяєsт, αиđ тнosє ωнo мαӄє тнєίя нoмєs тнєяєίи αяє вoтн ωίsє αиđ ωєlcoмίиġ.
Too long have I been cast out, my ƧĦДÐΦʬ begging me to ascend to those lofty peaks, taunting me for my rest and cursing my sloth- it knows that I must never cease from trying.
Everyone's invited.
んﾑЏ乇 ﾘԾЦ 刀Ծ ｷ乇ﾑ尺 Ծｷ ζんﾉᄊæ尺ﾑ?
αη∂ ѕσ ι нανє мσяє яєαѕση тσ ƒєαя.
What is this?
Having caught himself resting with his shadow, the traveler begins anew to trudge toward the far mountains because that is more productive than slumber. "The joy is in the work." Struggle and sing. It keeps one alive. You see? Or, hearing that, do not feel.
This one understands.
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