The Sacred Blacksmith Dual Audio 1080p Resolution
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There was an artist in the city of Kouroo who was disposed to strive afterperfection. One day it came into his mind to make a staff. Having consideredthat in an imperfect work time is an ingredient, but into a perfect work timedoes not enter, he said to himself, It shall be perfect in all respects, thoughI should do nothing else in my life. He proceeded instantly to the forest forwood, being resolved that it should not be made of unsuitable material; and ashe searched for and rejected stick after stick, his friends gradually desertedhim, for they grew old in their works and died, but he grew not older by amoment. His singleness of purpose and resolution, and his elevated piety,endowed him, without his knowledge, with perennial youth. As he made nocompromise with Time, Time kept out of his way, and only sighed at a distancebecause he could not overcome him. Before he had found a stock in all respectssuitable the city of Kouroo was a hoary ruin, and he sat on one of its moundsto peel the stick. Before he had given it the proper shape the dynasty of theCandahars was at an end, and with the point of the stick he wrote the name ofthe last of that race in the sand, and then resumed his work. By the time hehad smoothed and polished the staff Kalpa was no longer the pole-star; and erehe had put on the ferrule and the head adorned with precious stones, Brahma hadawoke and slumbered many times. But why do I stay to mention these things? Whenthe finishing stroke was put to his work, it suddenly expanded before the eyesof the astonished artist into the fairest of all the creations of Brahma. Hehad made a new system in making a staff, a world with full and fairproportions; in which, though the old cities and dynasties had passed away,fairer and more glorious ones had taken their places. And now he saw by theheap of shavings still fresh at his feet, that, for him and his work, theformer lapse of time had been an illusion, and that no more time had elapsedthan is required for a single scintillation from the brain of Brahma to fall onand inflame the tinder of a mortal brain. The material was pure, and his artwas pure; how could the result be other than wonderful? 827ec27edc