Utopia
Night is over, little child
the storm is stilled, the East is red.
Awake and you will get to see a carriage:
golden, jade-green, pink and grey.
Leaning against the carriage is a man
in a coat sapphire-blue as the day.
The horses are grazing, the man asks if you will go with him and travel far.
Who is this person, little son?
He is yourself, and you ask him:
"Grown man, grown man, where are you going?"
Fear not, smile at him, little child!
Look straight at him, and ask:
"Grown man, grown man, where are we going?"
Ambiguity
The day is gone, little son
dream and you will get to see a carriage.
The carriage has wheels of scarlet
and a white mule draws it.
Inside the carriage sits a man
in silken hose with many-coloured threads.
He bears a cape of squirrel skin
over en waistcoat of white rabbit.
Lean against the shaft, little son!
Look into the carriage and ask him:
"Grown man, grown man, where are you going?"
Fear not, smile at him, little child!
Look straight at him, and ask:
"Grown man, grown man, where are we going?"
Nightmare
The sun is gone, little brother.
Sleep and you will get to see a chariot:
Knives bound to wheels of iron,
gruesome, it leaves sorrow and wailing it its wake.
High on the chariot stands a man:
Grim helmeted, with spear, bow and arrow,
he bears an oxhide cape over a bloody shirt of mail.
The horse rears, the whip cracks.
Do not run away! Scream at him, ask him:
"Grown man, grown man, where are you going?"