Out from the dense death-deep dark space
Hope came to me with steady a pace:
Adorned with a halo like rings of Saturn,
Blowing on her conch she announced my turn,
Her parts were covered with the mother of pearl,
Her hair wild and fiery was in a perpetual whirl.
She held out a vile vase wound with lace,
With downcast eyes thrust it to my face,
In the vase nettles were chocking a rose.
Scratching my stinging skin from this vision I arose,
To find myself in a train’s tail end wagon,
My skin I peeled and the illusions were gone,
Out the window the train derailed – I held on.