Prologue
[Originally translated by metwin1]
Is the horizon far away?
Not at all!
Man is at the horizon, how can the horizon be far away?
What colour is the bright moon?
It is blue; and like the ocean, blue, deep and sorrowful.
Where is the bright moon?
It is in his heart; his heart is the bright moon.
What about his sabre?
His sabre is in his hand!
What kind of blade is that?
His sabre is as broad and as lonely as the horizon, as pure and sorrowful as the bright moon; even with a flash of steel, some times it is as if it is empty.
Empty?
Empty and illusional, as if it never exists, yet present everywhere.
But the speed of his sabre does not appear to be very swift.
How can a sabre that is not swift be invincible under the heavens?
This is because his sabre has gone beyond the limits of speed!
Where is he?
He has not returned, but his heart is already broken.
Where is the path of his return?
The path is right in front of him.
Cannot he see the path?
He is not looking for it.
So he cannot find the path?
Perhaps not now, but he will find it sooner or later.
Willl he find it for sure?
Definitely!