Boiling thoughts in a peaceful night,
clumsily driven by a living heart,
were calling for two very old men,
asking for their wandering to end.
One of them is a physician,
the very first expert in wells;
he says “Reality is an addition
of ropes and pulleys and buckets and hands.
Learn the right movement to extract your dreams;
I show all components, explain every gear.
Don’t throw any and don’t call me, please;
when time will come I will make it clear”.
The second one is a magician,
the very last one left on earth;
he says “Reality is a deep fount.
Fill it with dreams of love and birds;
I have the great power to reveal
when founts of dreams will overflow.
Don’t waste any and don’t call me, dear;
when time will come I will let you know”.
While shouting out for the physician
and begging please the great magician,
a drop of fine gold lightened the obscure,
picturing a dazzling creature;
she said “your calls echoed in my ear
and there is nothing I can do, dear
except the things I love and believe in”.
Boiling thoughts turned into quivering,
thinking the magician was talking.
“ If you want to end the wandering,
tell me please, I explain everything”,
whispered softly the creature
to the creation of the thinker.
It sounded like a physician chorus,
But it was the song of the divine Morpheus
who firmly believed in a talent
given to him by the Ancients :
By tickling thoughts with his voice,
by caressing them with his wings,
he could put an end to their wandering.