Monarch Of Earth, I Shall Confess My

Ah, If You Could Dance All That You've Just Said, Then I'd Understand.

Within This Arena, Which Grows More Stable Night After Day, Generations Work And Love And Hope And Vanish. New Generations Tread On The Corpses Of Their Fathers, Continue The Work Above The Abyss And Struggle To Tame The Dread Mystery. How? By Cultivating A Single Field, By Kissing A Woman, By Studying A Stone, An Animal, An Idea.

Truly, Everything In This World Depended On Time. Time Ripened All. If You Had Time, You Succeeded In Working The Human Mud Internally And Turning It Into Spirit. Then You Did Not Fear Death. If You Did Not Have Time, You Perished.

In Order To Succeed, We Must First Believe That We Can.

Beauty Is Merciless. You Do Not Look At It, It Looks At You And Does Not Forgive.