He said, ‘Bring out the souvenir from travelling
to match your understanding of these realms.’
He said, ‘When other people see the sky,
I see the throne and those who sit in heaven.
Eight paradises, seven hells appear
to me as clear as idols to the shaman.
I recognize the creatures one by one,
like wheat among the barley in the mill.
The strangers from the guests of Paradise
I see like serpents swimming among fish.’
This time has been revealed for this assembly,
‘the day their faces turn to black or white’.
However wicked was the soul before this,
it was within the womb, concealed from people.
‘The damned are damned inside their mother’s womb,
their state is known from marks upon the body.’
The flesh – a mother – bears the infant soul;
death is the pain and trauma of its birth.
The souls of all who’ve gone before watch out
to see how that exultant soul is born.
The Ethiopians say, ‘He’s one of us.’
The Anatolians say, ‘No, he’s too fair.’
When born into the spirit-world of grace,
there is no difference between white and black.
If he is black the Ethiops take him off;
if he’s a Greek the Greeks take him themselves.
Unborn, it is a puzzle for the world,
for those who know the unborn are but few.
But surely ‘he is seeing by God’s light’;
he has the way beneath his outer skin.