Observances

At 6:55 this evening, I suddenly remembered the e-mailed call to carry a candle outside at seven. I called out to Misha, and we decided that it would probably be a good thing to do. Fortunately, I had a box of plain white emergency candles and a bx of matches handy in my desk drawer. We walked out through the covered ground-floor passageway of our apartment building and onto the sidewalk. At first, I saw no one else. Then I caught a glimmer of candlelight among people about a half-block away, whom I had thought were just walking to their car. And looking up, I saw two balconies lit with candlelight, and pale faces.

We lit our candles, but the wind soon blew them out. Eventually we gave up on relighting them and walked back to stand in the mouth of the covered passageway. We leaned in to each other and watched our candles burn. It wasn't quite twilight. An airplane flew by overhead.

After a few minutes, the two of us sang the national anthem quietly and meditatively, with more grieving determination to it than pomp and glory. I was reminded that the lyrics are about emerging from the wreckage of a disastrous attack with our national identity and sense of purpose intact, and suddenly wondered why I've heard so many more renditions of "God Bless America" in recent days.

Coming back inside, I found that I really, really didn't want to blow my candle out. We set them in our massive pewter candlesticks - two small white emergency candles - and they've spent the last three and a half hours slowly burning down.

It seemed fitting to play the Mozart Requiem, and to look online for the English translation of the text.

Confutatis maledictis
Flammis acribus addictis,
Voca me cum benedictus.
Oro supplex et acclinis,
Cor contritum quasi cinis,
Gere curam mei finis.

When the damned are confounded
and consigned to keen flames,
call me with the blessed.
I pray, suppliant and kneeling,
a heart as contrite as ashes;
take Thou my ending into Thy care.

Lacrimosa dies illa,
Qua resurget ex favilla
Judicandus homo reus.
Huic ergo parce, Deus:
Pie Jesu Domine:
Dona eis requiem. Amen.

That day is one of weeping,
on which shall rise again from the ashes
the guilty man, to be judged.
Therefore spare this one, O God,
merciful Lord Jesus:
Give them rest. Amen.

I just went and checked on the candles. They're still burning.

Take thou my ending into thy care. Spare this one, O God, give them rest.

Wow.

http://www.citizenx.com/united/default.html

...and more linking

An Afghan living in the US writes eloquently about the Afghan political situation and the dangers of war.

(Thanks to the TOCOTOXling for pointing me to the original version of this article - I had originally linked to an uncredited version someone copied into his LJ.)