My fate was carved in strokes, deep and shallow,
next to a censer, on oracle bones. The seers bound
from ancient soil bowed their heads low for
a ritual. They reached for rosin, a gift of time,
...
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Gives an interesting view of pattern in the phases of life. Intense commitment to labor cannot be forced, but must grow from one's character, and the same goes for full enjoyment of leisure's gifts.