A great war will be between the emperor
and the Pope; among the rankest lands
arise new grains, their flavor
is like to remember the calmest skies.
Only who know arcane color
foresee in saint John’s day, plethoric
in pride and greatness, in a hard error
the potent will see (those historic
pendulums) settled in humility.
See then to Patmos! The island whose king,
with cement built a city.
Read at Apocalypse 23,
of the last catechistic novel:
the entire Earth, anti-christic epiphany.