In the year 663 AD, a shadow fell upon Japan. The devastating defeat at the Battle of Hakusonko sent ripples of fear throughout the nation. The threat of invasion loomed large. Here, at Mizuki, you can almost feel the urgency of that era. Mizuki, meaning “water fortress,” was more than just a name. It was a bold declaration of defiance against the Tang and Silla forces. Prince Naka no Oe, the future Emperor Tenchi, ordered its construction in 664 AD to protect Dazaifu, the administrative center of Kyushu. Mizuki was a marvel of ancient engineering. Imagine a massive earthen wall, over 10 meters high and 80 meters wide, stretching 1.2 kilometers. This formidable barrier stood between the enemy and the heart of Kyushu. A wide, deep moat, filled with water from the Mikasa-gawa River, further strengthened the defenses. The Mizuki wasn’t just a static wall. It was a dynamic system. Gates provided controlled access, while a wooden gutter channeled water through the moat. Even today, remnants of this ingenious design whisper tales of a nation’s resolve. Later, during the Mongol invasions of the 13th century, the Mizuki was reinforced, standing ready to repel any attack. While it never saw battle in that conflict, its presence served as a powerful deterrent. Standing here at Mizuki, you’re not just looking at ruins. You’re touching a piece of history, a testament to the ingenuity and determination of a people facing an uncertain future. Mizuki remains a silent guardian, a reminder of a time when the fate of a nation hung in the balance.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to