It is a terrible terrain
no mortal eye has seen
whose image still seduces me
this morning as it fades...

Sleep is full of miracles!
Some impulse in my dream
had rid the region I devised
of every growing thing,

and proud of the resulting scene
I savoured in my art
the rapturous monotony
of metal,water, stone..


A maze of stairs and arches formed
an endless palace filled
with basins where the bright cascades
fell into tarnished gold;

Like crystal curtains, cataracts
streamed down metal walls,
shimmering where the ripples made
perpetual descent;

colonnades instead of trees
shaded sleeping pools
where,vain as women, huge naiads
marveled at themselves;

pale-blue sheets of water spread
between the marble quays-
their rims of rose and green converged
a universe away;

unimaginable gems
glowed in magic streams;
mirrors dizzily exchanged
the dazzling world they showed!

Sacred rivers crossed the sky
in silent unconcern,
pouring the treasure of their urns
into diamond gulfs.

..Yet neither sun no moon appeared,
and no horizon paled
to light such wonders--from within
each thing was luminous!

Waking,dazzled, I was back
in my familiar slum
and felt returning to my soul
the curse of all my cares;

with unrelenting strokes the clock
inisisted it was noon,
and shadows poured out of the sky
upon a sluggish world.