Civilizations grow old and die right in front of our eyes.

You can't judge the present by the past. Each day is different, and you live it differently.

The tree that stands so firm on land trembles in the water.

The year 1946 was the watershed: generations born after that were increasingly exposed to the new, poorer orthographic style and gradually became reluctant to read anything written before the changes unless it was rewritten in that style.

So dawn does down to day, the poet wrote. Nothing gold can stay.

Ages and epochs belong to Time. Only the fleeting moment is eternal.