绿色的小鸟在房间的表面上滑行。一个赤身裸体的女孩准备了一盆热气腾腾的水，在远离壁炉的角落里，一辆倒置的马车的红色车轮慢慢地转动着。过了很长一段时间，另一个世界的门打开了，一个男人的金色身影出现了。他像鲑鱼一样红红的站在放着大地之王纪念品的壁龛旁;然后，他悲伤地从身边抽出一把锤子，走向一张橡木桌子，小心翼翼地愤怒地敲打，把桌子砸成了碎片。另一个女人现在已经站在了冒泡的浴缸旁边。她的腿上覆盖着一层柔软的蓝色皮毛，膝盖以上的地方长得和狮子的鬃毛一样厚。她胸部的上部被两枚镶着宝石的别针聚集成巨大的折痕。透明的小靴子露出天使想要的脚趾。在她下面的地板上，一只美丽的肉桂色猫在玩弄一串黄葡萄，爪子伸来伸去，就像一个男孩在做一个愚蠢的国王。 Her voice is round and white as she says: 'Your bath is ready, darling. Don't wait too long.' But he has already drawn away to the window And through its circular opening looks, As a man into the pages of his death. 'Terrible horsemen are setting fire to the earth. Houses are burning ... the people fly before The red spears of a speckled madness . . .' 'Please, dear,' interrupts the original woman, 'We cannot help them ... Under the cancerous foot Of their hatred, they were born to perish - Like beasts in a well of spiders ... Come now, sweet; the water will get cold.' A little wagon pulled by foxes lowers from the ceiling. Three men are seated on its cushions which breathe Like purple breasts. The head of one is tipped To the right, where on a bed of snails, a radiant child Is crowing sleepily; the heads of the other two are turned Upward, as though in contemplation Of an authority which is not easily apprehended. Yet they act as one, lifting the baby from its rosy perch, And depositing it gently in the tub. The water hisses over its scream ... a faint smell Of horror floats up. Then the three withdraw With their hapless burden, and the tinny bark Of the foxes dies on the air. 'It hasn't grown cold yet,' the golden figure says, And he strokes the belly of the second woman, Running his hands over her fur like someone asleep. They lie together under the shadow of a giant crab Which polishes its thousand vises beside the fire. Farther back, nearly obscured by kettles and chairs, A second landscape can be seen; then a third, fourth, Fifth ... until the whole, fluted like a rose, And webbed in a miraculous workmanship, Ascends unto the seven thrones Where Tomorrow sits. Slowly advancing down these shifting levels, The white Queen of Heaven approaches. Stars glitter in her hair. A tree grows Out of her side, and gazing through the foliage The eyes of the Beautiful gleam - 'Hurry, darling,' The first woman calls. 'The water is getting cold.' But he does not hear. The hilt of the knife is carved like a scepter And like a scepter gently sways Above his mutilated throat ... Smiling like a fashionable hat, the furry girl Walks quickly to the tub, and throwing off Her stained gown, eels into the water. The other watches her sorrowfully; then, Without haste, as one would strangle an owl, She flicks the wheel of the chariot - around Which the black world bends ... without thrones or gates, without faith, warmth or light for any of its creatures; where even the children go mad - and As though unwound on a scroll, the picture Of Everyman's murder winks back at God. Farther away now, nearly hidden by the human, Another landscape can be seen ... And the wan, smiling Queen of Heaven appears For a moment on the balconies of my chosen sleep.