In the clear glass of a dream, I have glimpsed
the Heaven and Hell that lie in wait for us:
when Judgement Day sounds in the last trumpets
and planet and millennium both
disintegrate, and all at once, O Time,
all your ephemeral pyramids cease to be,
the colors and the lines that trace the past
will in the semi-darkness form a face,
a sleeping face, faithful, still, unchangeable
(the face of the loved one, or, perhaps, your own)
and the sheer contemplation of that face --
never-changing, whole, beyond corruption --
will be, for the rejected, an Inferno,
and, for the elected, Paradise.
Jorge Luis Borges, "Of Heaven and Hell".