There aren't many people in Saint Mark's Square,

There is the Way of the Cross, the memory of the Death...

And yet someone has come here and he is not bored,

He is here, he is praying and he is not fidgeting...



There is an image of the plague in Saint Mark's Square,

There are masks on the faces, there are social distances,

There are, like distant mountains, human expressions,

There are various cognitive dissonances...



There is no shortage of faith in Saint Mark's Square,

There is no empty ideology of Evil...

Sometimes someone thinks it's magic, witchcraft

And this is only the glory of the Risen One!...



Today He is laid in the tomb ... today Joseph of Arimathea,

The hidden disciple, took His body away,

He buried it in tradition, maybe in hope.

May Jewish customs be satisfied...



And yesterday behind Cedron in Gethsemane,

Yesterday in prayer, in waiting...

Jesus was caught like a common criminal,

With the Judas conspiracy...



Soon, so much will change,

Our fatigue, our torment, that's life...

The eternal world stands before you like an offering,

And in Saint Mark's Square there is a deeper being.



And there's the Satan howl somewhere, too.



And there is also hope somewhere.

And there is also a culpa somewhere... mea...

And there is also hope somewhere.





From 2. to 3.4.2021, Joe., After the Way of the Cross from the Vatican.