Our lives race feebly in all directions.A frozen piece of land at the bottom of the earth…“I seem to hold in reserve something that makes for successand yet to see no worthy field for itand so there is this consciousnessof a truly deep unrest.”takes on significanceand plots our course.Where does this unrest originate?“Daddy, do you like my drawing?”A gentle wind on the water.Stars hanging downin a solitary night.The moon leaps on the great river.Du Fu, what did your life resemble?A sand gullfloating, floatingbetween earth and sky.Du Fu, now that we read you,what did your life resemble?