-- はいぶん --
Thursday Night
After the procession everything is stripped bare. The flowers are carried away by whiteclad servants. Then the books, the candles, the clothing, even the ornaments and the chairs.
The crowd is watching; slightly incredulous, yet bowing to the inevitable.
Then the lamentations begin. Sometimes a voice raises over the others, the crowd joining in. But mostly there's silence in the dark.
Candles deep in prayer
Around the Lord's resting place.
Touched by red light.
It does leave a mournful, incredulous and sad feeling on those holy days.
SvarSletAnd I wonder if the mostly Japanese jury did understand what I meant at all ... I suppose so after all.
Slet