Back on the starting line.

 

Cold winter sky above bare trees fills my eyes.

 

I set up another self of mine, exhausted yet renewed, on the ground where leaves are dancing. Leaves which will be covered by snow very soon.

 

A fish stuck in the mud has every reason to live on, just as a Mae-hwa tree endures the winter for its blooming.

 

Beyond the thorny fields before me, faces are twinkling like faraway lighthouses. Faces of those who yearn to see me again. Yes. I will pull myself up. And walk.

 

I will keep pulling my tired legs over whatever difficulties that await me, toward the "tearful reunion" with them. I will make the first step of this march a vigorous one.

 

[by Shenzi at the beginning of his prison term(for life), in November 1969, 20 years and 20 days ahead of his release]

 

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