I try to be close ... It is like a part of my life is ending

AT first they sang him a lullaby, then they tried rousing him with cheers.

Pope John Paul's last night on earth was spent with a crowd of tens of thousands serenading him outside his window as the natural amphitheatre of St Peter's Square lifted their voices high to the top floor rooms where he lay.

Members of the Polish community living in Rome instinctively found each other in the vastness of the square and a handful of women started up a traditional Polish hymn to a national idol, Our Lady of Czestochowa.

John Paul, like them, knew the verses and their soft, soothing melody since childhood. Soon the women were joined by a full scale choir of hundreds while onlookers listened to the notes and almost hypnotically hummed along.

Then it was the turn of the Italians who hailed their adopted Papa with chants they learned in the football stadium and adopted to suit another arena where passion, dread and joy all mixed.

"Giovanni Paulo" they called, shouting his name to the refrain of "We are the champions" and clapping rhythmically, repeating the salute over and over. "Viva Papa!" they declared in defiant hope to rapturous applause. "Papa sees us, Papa hears us, Papa is here with us," they chanted again and again.

"I hope he hears us. We want him to know we don't forget him," said Valentina Avena, a 21-year-old who travelled from Pisa with two of her friends to join the pilgrims. "We will stay tonight, all night. It's not much to do. We must wait with him."

Rome had been a city in waiting for three long days. As each one drew to a close, thousands had gathered in the square to watch as the light faded in the evening sky and brightened simultaneously in the room where the Pope lay.

The third night of waiting brought with it added anxiety. The Vatican's scheduled 6pm update on the Pope's condition was at first delayed and then cancelled.

Interpretations waivered between a hope that there was nothing new to say and speculation that a final statement was being prepared.

As a sense grew that this would be the last night, St Peter's witnessed remarkable scenes of extraordinary emotional intensity. The Rosary rippled through every section of the crowd and women wept openly as they recited the prayer.

Groups of friends sat on the edges of sheets spread out on the ground and laid with small tea lights, the flickering flames making their tears glisten on their cheeks.

A young girl sat perched on a ridge around an ornate lampstand, struggling to spread out an Italian flag wider than her small arms could stretch. Above her head in another nook, someone had placed a bouquet of flowers wrapped in deep pink paper. Close by, a woman clutched a single red rose bud to her chest.

In a small circle where pilgrims had shuffled backwards to create a respectful space, an elderly man struck a balletic pose, his entire body leaning towards the Pope's window, his arms stretched out as if trying to touch the glass.

He held the position for long minutes, then mouthed a silent prayer before reaching to the ground with difficulty to retrieve a battered satchel and a wooden crutch on which he leaned heavily as he limped slowly from the square.

Iwona Luniewska, a young Pole from Warsaw who was born the year John Paul became Pope had a simple explanation for why she stood and sang in the square.

"It's the only thing I can do. I just try to be close to him. I never knew any other Pope. It is like a part of my life is ending," she said.

"Somebody said yesterday there are millions of us but you had the feeling that he speaks just to you. Now there are a lot of us and he must know we are all speaking only to him. I think he hears us. I would not be surprised if he just managed to go to the window to look for us. It would be a miracle, I know, but I believe."

When the word came that ended thought of miracles, it was met with silence. Given only in Italian, the tourists did not understand the announcement but they needed no one to translate the tears of those around them.

Couples embraced, mothers held their children close, men nodded to each other. Pilgrims who had held their faces up to the Pope's window now bent their heads in prayer and the Rosary began again.

The voice of a young American priest broke through at times as he tried to raise his companion's spirits. "It's a great night too," he told them "The mercy of God has been shown. We can all stay here and cry but the Pope is already hearing the angels."