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I tried to find a simple scene to begin with –

To display an entire life in one candle shot,

From the beginning to the end,

Without any screen tests,

Without walk-throughs.

Remember the candles in churches,

How they flicker,

The very essence of things,

The spirit,

The unprotected fire,

The faith –

It reaches its pinnacle

On “pascha”.

I had this idea of filming you in my hands

In one continuous sequence –

From the moment you fall in my dream

To the moment you open your hand

To the morning.

Carrying the candle across your body

Is nothing less than the effort of an entire lifetime

Encapsulated in one gesture.

By the time you ask yourself if you really felt it,

It has evaporated!

A single image of your fragility

That flickers as the candle slowly extinguishes.

Each hope at the brink of being liquidated…

I found a simple scene to begin with –

A thin, but certain, weak flame,

And all its will was concentrated

On one thing:

To save this frail spring body,

To keep it burning.

I got aware of the odd encounter

I was having

With love itself,

When I could feel the texture of it,

Its presence,

As if love were not only a concept,

But a substance,

Stretching out in front of me,

Expanding with every candle puff.

I left the candle burning

Along your neck,

Straining as my grief spreads upward,


That not only has the sun been saved,

But that now my hand will always be found

To protect this flame

When you are no longer here.

I’d done everything

I promised

You and myself.

The unprotected fire,

The faith –

New life began again on Easter Sunday.