Conversations with the Poet

“When the poets pass through the silence, remember to bid farewell to the thought”

Photo taken By @oldsoulview (Neris Dipsov) instagram account.

After the Philosopher is gone, the silence of the thought station returns. A poet is needed in such moments of silence. Someone pours poetry onto the road, someone crushes lines, someone naively lifts them off the ground and pines them to his heart. One day, a Poet who ignited poems in his heart was a guest of the Philosopher's empty thought station. “Which poetry mortal are you? ” I asked the Poet. Immortal poets smelt death while they were alive. The Poet, breathing in the wind blowing against his face, answered: “The poem of time”. “Which line of that poem kills you more?” I asked the Poet again. With a smile implying that the verses are inseparable, he said: “The unsaid ones”. We left the sound of our existence in silence for a while. This time the Poet asked as if inspired by the poetry of our existence: “Well, Which Philosopher of the thought is it that killed you, who could not be found? ”. I didn't know until that moment that every thought has a Philosopher. Then I said to myself, some philosophers don't know how to drink water either. Returning to the presence of the Poet, I said: “The philosopher who cannot leave philosophy is the one who killed me”. “He is truly a philosopher who cannot be found, it is also valuable to die by his hand,” said the Poet, as if he had received the answer he was waiting for. “So you, like me, are one of those who believe that most philosophers do not philosophize, you feel that whoever does that real philosophy is lethal,” I said to the Poet. The Poet gave a final depth to an uneasy separation by scratching his head as a thought fell on the back of his head: “There are many philosophers who want to get rid of philosophy, but, strangely, most of those who want to get rid of philosophy have not fallen into the trap of philosophy. Tell me, how can we claim to love something without falling into its trap? The philosopher who killed you is a miser one who falls into the philosophy trap. Maybe he doesn't know how to drink water, but you can sense that he is a real philosopher from this clumsiness to live”. At that moment, I had a feeling that the philosophers of thought would come again from one stop away. The created depth was divided by our thirst for our understanding. The Poet raises a question from his thirsty: “Do you drink water too?” asked. I accepted his offer of water because I had to live this moment before philosophy arrived. They called the Poet “Sohrab” name, before leaving the station he said to me: “I drank the water without philosophy”. We have tested water frInstagram account.

By Neris Dipsov

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