I am walking Athens with Socrates
And see the world through his eyes
Barefooted with white robe
Tied in a knot with linen rope
I follow him like a shadow
Starring at the faces of Athenians
Who lived ago a couple of millennia
I saw Xantippe chasing chickens
And a bunch of little children
Chasing her in the square of Athens
But Socrates did not have time
For such petty things
He always thought big
And about important things
He had to go to the war
And was the only one
Who walked slowly glancing back
In case the enemy was chasing him
After the battle was lost
And he would have to protect
Beloved city and its citizens once again
He was awarded a medal
For such a brave act
But he gave it away
To a young man passing buy
On the street one day
Believing that he did not need it
He walked market place
Filled with beautiful sparkly things
And he wondered how that is
That there are so many things
That he did not need
Socrates was in dangerous business
Of telling fools that they are fools
And it did not last long
As Socrates himself would have
Guesses if he cared
Fools don’t like to be called
By their true names
They like to hide under fancy words
And elaborated lies
But Socrates did not know how to lie
So he always told the truth
Till one day he was accused
Of conspiracy to destroy
The old ways of the world
And taught young men
How to think on their own
That was a big crime
And he was the first philosopher
Sentenced to death for telling the truth
I was standing behind him
In a dark cave where
He was locked till the execution
I saw young Plato
Trying to convince the wise man
To escape the prison cell
But Socrates as always
Looked straight into the eyes
Of his students and said
He could not do such a thing
It would be against his teachings
To be true to himself
And to his words
To escape as a guilty man
Avoiding execution
Socrates was not guilty of anything
Else but telling the truth
So he took the cup
Filled with poison
Took another piercing look
At young men that he
Was surrounded by
Smiled at them swiftly
And in one gulp he put
A stamp on his word
That has never been proven wrong
Up till this day
I saw the grieving faces of his followers
And eyes filled with tears
And moans of despair
And the pain of the Athens
That lost the only man
Who loved them the most
And the bravest philosopher
In the history of the world
I hold Socrates in my arms
When he stumbled
And started losing sight
His white robe shone
In the darkness of the night
Like angels wings
Spread wide in the swing
And his words were
Written in the cosmic pattern
Of the sky of that unfortunate night
The skies became dark
And I saw bright robe
Floating towards the dusk light
Like a lonely bird
Crossing the sky
Where the next morning
Was opening eyes
And I cried grieving
For the world that never learned
To cherish those who loved it most

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