Mr. Cogito And The Imagination Poem by Zbigniew Herbert
Mr. Cogito And The Imagination
Mr. Cogito never trusted
tricks of the imagination
the piano at the top of the Alps
played false concerts for him
he didn't appreciate labyrinths
the Sphinx filled him with loathing
he lived in a house with no basement
without mirrors of dialectics
jungles of tangled images
were not his home
he would rarely soar
on the wings of metaphor
and then he fell like Icarus
into the embrace of the Great Mother
he adored tautologies
explanations
idem per idem
that a bird is a bird
slavery means slavery
a knife is a knife
death remains death
he loved
the flat horizon
a straight line
the gravity of the earth
Mr. Cogito was rather a boring person, wasn't he? As Rajnish Manga says, he would never have been a poet!
Mr Cogito's dislike for a world full of imagination is sure to debar him to become a poet or the merchant of dreams. Look at these magical lines which are so adorable: the piano at the top of the Alps / played false concerts for him. My heart goes out to the composer of this wonderful poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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10/13/2024 4:58:25 AM # 1.0.0
Knowing how the Nazis used words to hide meaning, knowing with certainty 'a knife is a knife' is crucial in the service of truth. We live in an era where words again are more smokescreens than beacons for meaning.