One morning as the sky was already growing light I woke from a very deep dream To find that the images that had come to me in my dream Remained before my eyes as vividly as if the things had been true Especially, the image of a black, scabby Brazilian Whom I had never seen before This image mostly disappeared when I diverted myself By fixing my eyes on a book or some other object But as soon as I turned them away from that object Without fixing them attentively on anything else The same image of the same black man appeared to me With the same vividness, and so it went on and off Until the image gradually disappeared from my visual field