When you move silently through such an utterly desolate landscape, an overwhelming hallucination can feel as if you are slowly being unraveled. The surrounding space is so vast that it becomes increasingly difficult to keep a balanced grip on your own being. The sun rises from the eastern horizon, and cuts its way across the empty sky, and sink below the western horizon. And in the movement of the sun, you feel something you hardly know how to name: some huge, cosmic love.

物 の 哀 れ

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