Chapter 5 in the city of the dead

Yesterday, I escaped the hustle and bustle of the city, walked in the quiet fields of Anwen, and went straight to a high hill. Nature dressed the hill in beautiful clothes, and it was magnificent.Standing there, I could see the whole city with its high-rise buildings under the thick clouds of factory smoke. I sat down and observed people's work from a distance, and found that most of the work was hard work.Instead of worrying about what people do, I look out over the fields, God's glorious throne.Then I saw that there was a cemetery in the field, where there were marble tombs surrounded by pines and cypresses.

I sat there, between the city of the living and the city of the dead, thinking.I was thinking, how here is the continuous struggle and never-ending activity, and how there is immersion in the prison, solemnity, ease and comfort.On this side there is hope and there is depression; there is love and there is hatred; there is poverty and there is wealth; there are religious and there are atheists.On the other side, there is a handful of loess, which nature turns over to create plants and animals, and all of this is done in silence. I was falling into these kinds of contemplation, when I suddenly saw a large group of people walking slowly, with a band in front, playing mourning music.It was a huge team, mighty and mighty, with all kinds of people.It was a funeral for a rich man.A dead body was carried in front, followed by a large group of living people, crying without a sound...

When they arrived at the cemetery, the priests gathered together, recited prayers, and sang the incense; the band also blew their trumpets.After a while, the orator came out to deliver a eulogy for the deceased, which can be described as quarreling and hype.Afterwards, the poet recited special treats, which are really gorgeous and beautiful.All these ceremonies were endlessly tedious.After a long time, people left a tomb to disperse. The tomb was painstakingly carved by the craftsmen, and carefully crafted wreaths were placed around it. I watched the funeral procession return to the city from a distance, and I was still thinking.

The sun is westward, the rocks and trees cast long shadows, and nature begins to shed its light overcoming. At this time, I saw two men carrying a thin wooden coffin, followed by a woman in rags.She holds a nursing baby in her arms, with a dog by her side, who looks now at her and at the coffin—a funeral for the poor and untouchables: behind the coffin is a grief-stricken, weeping wife ; a child who cries when its mother cries; a faithful dog that walks with such a sad, melancholy look. The party arrived at the cemetery, buried the coffin in the grave in a remote corner far from the marble tombs, and walked back in heart-rending silence, the dog looking back at each step. The resting place of his master.I watched them until they disappeared behind the trees.

At this time, I looked towards the living city and thought to myself: "That belongs to the rich and powerful." Then, I looked towards the City of the Dead and thought to myself: "This too belongs to the rich and powerful. Then, Lord, where is the place for the poor and the weak?" While I was thinking, I looked at the brocade sunset covered with a golden border by the magnificent sunshine, and only heard a voice in my heart say: "There."