"Only oneself knows the days when it is impossible to breathe. The rain pours down, the road back is nowhere to be seen, and the begonias planted by hand along the way have all withered.

They can still move forward; the water marks will be dried by the sun, seeds will drift with the wind to all directions, and with a little effort, happiness is within reach.

I envy all of this. The rain that can stop, the light that ought to come, and the path that grows beneath the feet as usual."