One year ago at a cold winter morning, I strolled this path, and I knew there were beings around but could not see any… It was chilling inside and outside yet this autumn I felt I have to go back—to find the secret, the thing—to find myself.

“In the middle of the journey of our life, I came to myself within a ᴅᴀʀκ wood where the straight way was lost. Ah, how hard a thing it is to tell what a wild, and rough, and stubborn wood this was, which in my thought renews the ғᴇᴀʀ!”

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