From the diary of a contemporary <br /> <br /> <br />At wit’s end, I went to the doctor. <br />He pushed a pince-nez down on his nose: <br />“Nerves. Anxiety. Too soon to tell... <br />“So, I’ll prescribe <br />Guniyadi Janos.” <br /> <br />The blood pounded in my temples: <br />Guniyadi?! For questions, <br />For disbelief, for boredom?! <br />“Well, I’m not a philosopher. <br />Good day.” <br /> <br />So I went to a philosopher: <br />“Is there a purpose? A book or a plan? <br />A true school, a definite path? <br />Like an ox, I live in the dark. <br />Clarify!” <br /> <br />Pacing in a colorful dressing gown, <br />Its hem dragging the floor, he said: <br />“Even Socrates himself is helpless here. <br />You, idiot! Look around you!” <br />“Thanks a lot....” <br /> <br />In the street, I saw <br />A woman with a contented look. <br />I quietly approached her: <br />“Hello, neighbor…” – “You insolent beggar!” <br />“Pardon me….” <br /> <br />I went home in a daze, <br />My mind full of thoughts – <br />Each playing leap frog with the next: <br />First mockery, then insanity. <br />Lost! <br /> <br />A nurse quietly entered the room. <br />There is still another philosopher: <br />“Why do you sit here like a wild animal? <br />Forget it, brother, just believe – without questions.” <br />“In Guniyadi?” <br /> <br />“Gu-ni-ya-di? Who’s that? <br />A German saint? <br />To save your soul, <br />One saint is as good as the next...” <br />She left.<br /><br />Sasha Chernyi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-seeker-13/
