Passing through the woods



No one can stop the passing time,
nor can anyone blame the time that has passed.
Living becomes a sort of parasite of time
on which man lives in the world.
But no one knows the meaning of this;
the wind of time blow in vain.
...
From "Living" written by Woo Myung.

The view from the car window is very beautiful. It 's too bad to pass too fast. Let's set up a car. No, let's just run.