Seeking the black stone, beneath the inverted flood
With claws in the wet soil, submerged fingers blind
Hold me no funeral, but baptise my corpse in lightning
Where is my black stone beneath the waters?
Where is the illuminating light buried in the dark?
Where the indestructible bolt of wisdom blazes
The stone to crush phenomena, the weight upon all ephemera
Only one shall know
That it is knowledge, knower and known
Pierce my heart with fire, and bury me in longing
So swallowed be the final breath, before the ritual death
Celebrate the end of the cosmos and he will turn into dust
For it was already nothing but ashes…
黄泉の国
видения страданий
Another Gustave Doré illustration, appropriate for a gloomy April day in Cambridge. This dark fable tells of an owl who shares a tree trunk with a large cohort of mice. The owl systematically bites one foot off of each mouse to prevent any from escaping; he then basically has a mouse buffet available to him at all times. Like we said, dark stuff.
From: Fables (1872)
