I’ve been into many graveyards in Edinburgh… they are ancient… they are quite… they seemed like a poem written ages ago…
There is this serenity that befalls the heart once you are in there… a kind of respect for those lying underneath… a frighten shiver down one’s spine… one day… sooner or later… I’ll be the one under and some one else would be above [The ground]…
And in there… in that busy full place where only stones and trees meet the eyes… words of reflection come to the mind… teaching us yet another lesson…
[[The mutual rivalry (for piling up of worldly things) diverts you, Until you visit the graves (i.e. till you die). Nay! You shall come to know! Again nay! You shall come to know! Nay! If you knew with a sure knowledge (the end result of piling up, you would not have been occupied yourselves in worldly things). Verily, you shall see the blazing Fire (Hell)! And again, you shall see it with certainty of sight! Then on that Day you shall be asked about the delights (you indulged in, in this world)!]] 102:1-8 Holy Quran
[[REQUIEM
Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me;
"Here he lies where he longed to be,
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill."
Robert Louis Stevenson]]
1 comment:
I love graveyards. Is that strange?
so peaceful. I like looking at the ages of the people who've died, and thinking about what might have happened, and what they were doing earlier that day, and if they knew they were going to die, and what it felt like. 'Gone but not forgotten' is what one of your photos pronounces... an unrealistic aspiration? perhaps.
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