The Decay of the Angel - Yukio Mishima

present, death can still be put off, but once the greater
signs appear the issue is not in doubt.
In Robe of Feathers, one of the greater signs has
already made its appearance, and yet the angel will
recover if the robe is returned. It may be imagined that
Zeami allowed himself a poetic hint of decay and
decline and did not worry about the meticulous letter
of the law.
Honda remembered with extraordinary freshness
the five marks of decay in the Kitano Scroll, a national
treasure he had seen long before in the Kitano
Shrine. He had a photographic copy which called up
something, a song of horrid foreboding, perhaps, to
which he had earlier been deaf.
In a garden blocked off by the beautiful foundations
of a Chinese pavilion, crowds of angels are plucking
on zithers, beating on drums. But there is no
suggestion of vitality, the music has fallen to the dull
buzz of a fly on a summer afternoon. Pluck though they
may, beat though they may, the strings and skins are
slack and tired and decayed. There are flowers in the
forward parts of the garden, and among them a
grieving cherub presses its sleeves to its eyes.
Death has come too suddenly. Incredulity is written
on beautiful, otherwise inexpressive white angel
faces.