Essence of Time. Chapter 7
It is as though his poem was written today, not a hundred years ago. Not only is it amazing, but it also gives a certain hope. Because if we managed to prevent the dragon’s gaping jaws from devouring the world a hundred years ago, then perhaps we will manage to do so again. But whose hand will hold the sword? Who will forge it? And is there even a hand capable of holding it? Is there a people? Or is its backbone broken, and the hand lies languidly along the body and cannot even move?
