It happened in October of the year 1913 as I was leaving alone
for a journey; that during the day I was suddenly overcome in
broad daylight by a vision: I saw a terrible flood that covered all
the northern and low-lying lands between the North Sea and the
Alps. It reached from England up to Russia, and from the coast of
the North Sea right up to the Alps. I saw yellow waves, swimming
rubble, and the death of countless thousands.
I see a gray rock face along which I sink into great depths.
I stand in black dirt up to my ankles in a dark cave. Shadows
sweep over me. I am seized by fear, but I know I must go in.
I crawl through a narrow crack in the rock and reach an inner
cave whose bottom is covered with black water. But beyond this I
catch a glimpse of a luminous red stone which I must reach. I wade
through the muddy water. The cave is full of the frightful noise
of shrieking voices. I take the stone, it covers a dark opening in the
rock. I hold the stone in my hand, peering around inquiringly. I do
not want to listen to the voices, they keep me away But I want to
know. Here something wants to be uttered. I place my ear to the
opening. I hear the flow of underground waters. I see the bloody
head of a man on the dark stream. Someone wounded, someone
slain floats there. I talce in this image for a long time, shuddering.
I see a large black scarab floating past on the dark stream.