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Nirvana, 1890

Brother Jacob, the wall is falling.
No lesser spirits will pass through.

Breakers form in the dark green
Water, where it gathers overhead.

Is it a wave? It would seem the sea
Bore up into the heavens, and all

Its swell communed with the stars :
Are those fireflies glimmering

Behind its curtain, or the heads of
Flowering grasses? Perhaps yet

It is only a green evening sky, and
The breakers fine heads of cloud,

Stained blue in their departure.
O Jacob, what black smoke is it

Pours from your back, in which
Nereids twist, pale as corpses?

Your face seems to light red where
Their hair flames. Your hand held

Before you as if to make a sign.
O, you are devilfish, with your

Feline eyes of empty periwinkle!
Speak now, for the wall is falling.