I tillæg til Mads Eslunds fine påsketekster , kunne man jo læse denne her af Samuel Beckett. Den er oprindeligt skrevet på fransk, men her er den i en engelsk version. En fantastisk tekst. Og er det egentlig en slags Jesus, som ligger der på jorden? Hvorfor strejfer hun rundt efter blomster? Og er det mørket som får alting til at hænge sammen? One evening Samuel Beckett He was found lying on the ground. No one had missed him. No one was looking for him. An old woman found him. To put it vaguely. It happened so long ago. She was straying in search of wild flowers. Yellow only. With no eyes but for these she stumbled on him lying there. He lay face downward and arms outspread. He wore a greatcoat in spite of the time of year. Hidden by the body a long row of buttons fastened it all the way down. Buttons of all shapes and sizes. Worn upright the skirts swept the ground. That seems to hang together. Near the head a hat lay askew on the ground. At once on its brim and crown. He l...