Usually in Moscow on the Holy Week the nature hardly starts to wake up, happens, as the snow has not thawn yet. Defencelessness of not dismissed trees, the uncovered ground, the soft yellowish spring sun somehow is naturally intertwined in especial mood of these days. For me they are always penetrated pasternakovskimi by lines.

In Beijing the grass for a long time turns green, bushes blossom, and trees were almost dismissed. As it is sad, it is necessary to leave darlings to heart in the image of Passionate Friday.

In Fanze all is ready to carrying out of the Shroud: before analoem the table, around of it - greater baskets with colors is put. The Arabian Christians have a touching tradition - on Great Friday since early morning in temples women converge and start to spin wreaths for the Shroud. It is the special female making made with a pray and singing.

Father Dionisy tells to us about it and with grief looks at ready baskets.

On day time service - some person. Crackling of candles is carried on empty Fanze.

" To You, odejushchagosja light, jako rizoju, snem Joseph from a tree with Nikodimom... " The small unpretentious Shroud is born before praying. A singsong complex to learn on some voices we it were not in time, it is necessary "to be the soloist". Awfully I am afraid to be mistaken.

"... Kako to cellar Tja, My God; or kakoju plashchanitseju obviju; whether koima rukama I shall touch to imperishable Your body; or kija of songs I shall sing to Your outcome, SHCHedre... "

Attention, ideas, prays, lamentations were closed above the small little table imposed by colors...

" Comely Joseph, from a tree snem prechistoe Your body, plashchanitseju chistoju having twisted and vonjami, in a coffin nove, having covered, put ".

Curls ladan, the censer tinkles. More and more time merno and svetlo spins the laces the Bulgarian singsong.

We Are put to the Shroud and silently we go home, carrying away the world in a shower and a smell of pink oil on lips.

Evening. Silently goes utrenja. Fanza all is filled and filled with people - the working day is finished, and people directly from service go here.

... Also see light at imperial vrat
And black payments, and candles a number,
Zaplakannye persons...

Here the father lifts the Shroud, and everyone pick up Trisvjatoe, man's voices most loudly sound. Solemn procession slowly moves on a narrow path in a direction to poklonnomu to a cross. From both parties above us hang blossoming branches.

... Gardens leave fencings
The grounds Kolebletsja way:
They bury the God...

We Bend around poklonnyj a cross. The smell ladana mixs up with the strongest aroma of a lilac as if also it has brought aromas raspjatomu to the Lord.

... And procession bypasses a court yard
On edge of sidewalk,
Also brings from street in pritvor,
Spring, spring conversation,
And air with smack prosfor
And a vernal intoxication...

After service one has approached to me of altarnikov - the student who has arrived for Easter from TSzinani, and has brought the fellow of years of twenty.

Is Vanja, it - the present bass!

Here so a find! Now it is clear, why so man's voices during religious procession solidly sounded. Vanja studies in Beijing; earlier - in Moscow, sang on a choir. We leave on street and it is there and then tried one of Saturday church chanting on two voices, an alto and a bass. Well and the beauty has turned out! Whether still will be, when we shall start singing together.