Crosstie

O sleeper, what sort of doomed karma deprived your glory and life and put you in chains? On some occasions joyful happiness has passed over you. On some occasions tearful sorrows passed over your wooden heart. And as they go, never again to return, you are left alone as before. As night grows on and moonbeams come to visit you, a woman in mourning wanders about. You hear her cry, but cannot comfort her sorrows. And yet, you fatalistic philosopher, created without emotions nor choice of destination, slowly meet your condemning fate by the following of annual rings.