Читать книгу Dragon/s Dream. A Postmodern Fable - C. Ioutsen - Страница 11

The Dragon came here, to the bottom of the sea, when he was inclined to be social and in a mood for urbane company. He was maneuvering through the fishes, attracting rare dispassionate glances; and the fishes were everywhere, of all sizes, shapes and colors, in schools and solitary. A few darted to and fro on their errands, thoroughly unconcerned, while a greater part moved leisurely in a grave and dignified fashion.

It was impossible not to overhear some conversations.

«Those who speak do not know,» said one fish to another.

«Those who know do not speak.» The fish nodded in agreement.

«I cannot stand ignorance,» the first fish went on. «Despite being neither beautiful nor wise nor good, it is pleased with itself, so that thinking it does not need anything, it avoids what it truly needs.»

An enormous fish, bigger than the Dragon himself, spiraled closer with a melancholy air.

«I never avoid what I need, not me,» it pronounced. With nimbleness utterly disproportionate to its size it pulled the first fish by the fin and swallowed it whole.

«First know yourself, I say. Then know the others,» commented the second fish.

«To know anything, one has to know oneself first – it is through oneself that one can know anything,» said the Dragon. «Alternately, it is peering through a fog at a speck of dust on a cloudy night – dim specters and elusive silhouettes. The one who knows oneself shields his eyes from the dazzling sun and makes a step back for a better look.»