The Wisest Man in the World
Written for Da'.
The young man sat at his desk. He
Smiled
Because he was surrounded by books
A tall pile of soft books
With green cloth binding
Lying to his right, books that
Spoke of the sea and what was deep below it
And what was sleeping in the shallows
And what was whispering in the hollows,
And,
On his left,
Giant red books with golden lettering that told him
The secrets of the druids
In old, spidery hand
Before him
There were shiny black books with
Silver titles
Which informed him that he had a thousand years of poets
Before him. There were,
Scattered about,
Twenty-three separate volumes in Latin
Old and worn and yellow and brown
Spotted and spattered
With moths and dust and holes
With broken spines and uneven pages
These books contained the plans and secrets of twenty-three
Separate Roman cities
Which no one knew existed, which no one knew were there
And open before him was
A soft, slim book
With a grey cover
And a little rose in the upper right-hand corner
And this soft, slim book
Gave him the stories of a broken, disappeared people
Who built their world out of butterflies
And built their anecdotes
Out of flying fish
But all the books upon his desk did not
Form the extent of his collections, for
He had bookshelves. His room was full of
A thousand
Tall
Wide
Heavy
Shelves
Of new-cut wood that smelled of outside
Laden down with thousands more books
From a shelf labelled simply 'A'
Which began with a tiny pamphlet about Abdite
(It explained, in clear, concise words, about
A mineral too fine to be seen that
Rendered the first person to touch it
Invisible)
And continued on and on until a last triumphant firework of shelf
With ZENITH scrawled along the strip of wood up top
Filled with thick books
Heavy with thick books
Proclaimed the mystery of faith:
We believe because we must
To survive there must be something--
Anything--
Which we may believe in
And there were books that smelled bitter
Books whose pages stuck together
Books whose pages fell out
Books that opened up and rose out
Books with illustrations so beautiful and real
They seemed to move
There were a thousand thousand
Ten thousand thousand
Forever books
And the young man sat at his desk. He
Smiled. He possessed all the knowledge in the world
Within four walls
Within two covers
But the little ghost sat on his desk and said
Alas, Alas,
The boy dost not know everything
The young man said
What canst thou mean? I have all the knowledge--
--In the world said the ghost but did the boy
Ask his father stories?
Did he ask his father questions?
Of course not said the young man
I learned from teachers who knew things
Not from an old man who lived off the earth
And could not
Spell
His
N a m e
Alas, Alas! said the ghost
Then thou dost not know anything!
Thy father, who could not
Spell
His
N a m e
Was the wisest man in the world
For he asked his father questions
And his father gave to him answers
Which he had asked his father for
And he had asked his father for
Thy father, who could not
Spell
His
N a m e
Knew every secret of the earth
Passed down from every man
Since the beginning of time
Thy father knew the secrets of the beginning of time
Is thy father dead?
Thou hast lost it all
And thy father was the wisest man in the world
The young man said my father is dead
I have lost it all?
All whispered the little ghost
Alas, Alas!
But ah! cried the dust from the books
Thou hast lost the secrets of the earth
Thou canst keep the secrets of the word
Thou canst tell thy son the secrets of the word
And someday shall a child
Whose grandfather a hundred times you are
Say, My father was the wisest man in the world
The young man stood, in his wide room
Filled with books
Alas, Alas! whispered the little ghost
The secrets of the word! cried the dust
The young man kissed his soft, slim
Grey book
Left the room
Closed the door behind him softly
And went to the cemetery
My father was the wisest man in the world
He said
And before he went away
To begin all over again
He wrote upon his father's grave
With his finger
In the dirt
With the earth and only the earth
I'm sorry
And the name of a man who could not
Spell
His
N a m e
Back to the Index.