Today, when I woke up, I asked myself why did Christ die? Who knows the meaning of such questions? It was a winter morning, unbelievably cold. So the thoughts went on, from each question came another question, like a twig from a branch, like a branch from a black trunk. 2. At a time like this a young woman traveled through the desert settlements looking neither forward nor backward, sitting in perfect composure on the tired animal as the child stirred, still sealed in its profound attachment— The husband walked slightly ahead, older, out of place; increasingly, the mule stumbled, the path becoming difficult in darkness, though they persisted in a world like our world, not ruled by man but by a statue in heaven— 3. Above the crowds representing humankind, the lost citizens of a remote time, the insulted body raised on a cross like a criminal to die publicly above Jerusalem, the shimmering city while in great flocks birds circled the body, not partial to this form over the others since men were all alike, defeated by the air, whereas in air the body of a bird becomes a banner: But the lesson that was needed was another lesson.
