The sun still rises, and it still goes down, going wearily back to where it must start all over again.
The wind blows south, the wind blows north - round and round and back again.
Every river flows into the sea, but the sea is not yet full. The water returns to where the rivers began, and starts all over again.
Everything leads to weariness - a weariness too great for words. Our eyes can never see enough to be satisfied; our ears can never hear enough.
What has happened before will happen again. What has been done before will be done again. There is nothing new in the whole world.
"Look," they say, "here is something new!" But no, it has all happened before, long before we were born.
No one remembers what has happened in the past, and no one in days to come will remember what happens between now and then.