There! Away at the sunset edge of the land soldiers! Soldiers in the millions, fighting a great war, which seems to be without end. He doesn’t see the bear padding through the snow just half a league away, but neither does the bear see him, and in the remote depths of the forest, half a league is as good as a thousand. He carries an ax slung on his back, for he’s a woodcutter, and despite the snow, he has to keep his orphaned grandchildren warm. There’s a forest as large as a country, and in the heart of the forest is a single hut, from where we see a man, an old man with a great gray beard, staggering out in the winter-deep snow. In summer salmon leap through the cool fresh water, in winter the ice is as thick as a house is tall. Nevertheless, here it is: Here’s a river as wide as a sea, and into it flows a stream as wide as a river. From where we sit, on the far edge of history, we can see across Time itself, and yet this land is so big we struggle to see all of it at once. BEYOND THE SUNRISE, halfway to the moon, and so very far away it would make your feet weep to think about it, lies a land vast in size and deep in sadness.
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