slay was already an allegorical character interpretable as the greed (in fact it is never satisfied), who was the Hound able to defeat it? The Poet answered me thus:
«You need to consider that, being a Hound, it is a hunter and has a good sense of smell, like a dog or a greyhound in sum, than consider that it is a faithful friend of man and has an unmatched speed when he is ready for jerk. If you happen to see its action in rapid succession, you will barely glimpse its figure, but know that its work will be recognizable in the more distant future».
I objected that I would have its name so that I could recognize it, but he said to me:
«Knowing its name wonât help you, maybe you miss what it will do so important for humanity».
I confessed to him that I didnât understand anything until then, maybe that was why I had the courage to ask him a question to which it would be impossible to answer in a few words. Yet, from there started the most beautiful journey of my life.
«You who gained wisdom with such a long journey, how do you think the wide and profound science called philosophy has begun?», I dared ask him.
«Be careful to what Iâm now saying to you, because no one understood well that open-mindedness which gave life to infinite movements of thought like an explosion of billion of stars in the sky, some identifying the only possible happiness with the vision of God, others conceiving reason with the help of divine light as the only means to reach God, others still entrusting on reason the duty to lead man to happiness, the latter considering the death as the end of soul.
Yet if philosophy is an expression of one thing, canât forget its origin from something that goes beyond death, indeed it could be said that it is born from the breath of life, as the sweet sound of the Greek letter phi repeated twice suggests, as a kind of whistle that gives the A (or the F) to the music, like the classical proportion with which Phidias gave harmony to his works, following the golden ratio.
When man began to replace natural elements with physical realities, that tried to overcome on each other, in the representation of the world, the concept of origin and continuation of life (physis in Greek, natura in Latin) broke into the human mind in all its splendour, giving life to the thousand whys of philosophy. Physis is the origin, the progress, the fulfilment of life, is the vital soul of man and universe. When you pronounce it, you can clearly feel the sound of the universe.
It may seem strange that man, considering the physical component of his being, has ended up falling in love with his own thought, but there it is, man is circular.
Embark you now, take the sea to the Ionian coast of Mileto and from there you can continue to Athens, the cradle of democracy and the arts, in the period when Pericles and his circle did culture flourish in the Aegean Sea.»
For never yet have I sailed by ship over the wide sea,
but only to Euboea from Aulis where the Achaeans
once stayed through much storm when they had gathered a great host from divine Hellas for Troy, the land of fair women.
Then I crossed over to Chalcis, to the games of wise Amphidamas
where the sons of the great-hearted hero
proclaimed and appointed prizes. And there I boast
that I gained the victory with a song and carried off an handled tripod
which I dedicated to the Muses of Helicon, in the place where
they first set me in the way of clear song.
Such is all my experience of many-pegged ships...
(Hesiod, Works and Days, 650-660)
2. The flow of the mind
Sailing had been heavy and constant, even at night, when the stars seemed to drive the ship, driven by gusts of winds, which from time to time made it go ahead with some headway. The waves followed one another at such regular rhythm to induce their eyes to close, as if this natural music enchanted them. The first lights of dawn were appearing.
Suddenly the wind changed direction and intensity in a twinkling, the ship began to oscillate heavily forward, pitching like a big water bird. The shipâs master, seeing land on the horizon, didnât think it twice and decided to aim at the island that he saw in the distance. The protests of the old Alcibiades, quivering to return to his Athens, were worthless. Ten years earlier, he had to leave it for a political exile: he was looking forward to come back. He went along with two women of intriguing beauty, he kept explaining to them all they could have done in his city, all the places that he would like to show them, as if those years hadnât elapsed.
The masterâs decision was firm: «weâll let pass the storm before we resume sailing to Athens». The two girls seemed to comprehend the art of mariners and understand what the master was doing. The old Alcibiades, instead, regretted the masterâs lack of courage in facing an upcoming storm. At the time, he had faced far more serious political storms than that simple whirl of wind. Everything went worse: as soon as it was possible, the anchor had been cast and the master arranged to evacuate the ship, fitting out the boats. The two women gave immediately order to their slaves to fit out a boat after requesting permission from the shipâs master. Once on the ground, Alcibiades continued to speak with the master under an improvised roof at the quayside, where the sailors had tied the boats together.
We were landed in the island of Delos, where until four years earlier the treasury of the confederation between Athens and the allied islands was located, at least until Pericles had brought it to Athens.
Of the two girls, one was standing next to Alcibiades ready to satisfy all his wishes, even those that might have seemed unattainable. The other one had fun to feel the wind coming into her clothes and the rain wetting her hair, unconcerned to get sick. I didnât know her name, but talking to her was as sweet as fall in love with her. In an improvised dance move the veil had fallen, in which gathered her hair, that in a moment were released as skittish horses. I pleased to my curiosity, by giving her the veil back:
«Are you travelling to Athens?»
«Yes, my sisterâs husband comes back to Athens after a 10-year exile. Heâs so anxious to see his city again, that heâs really excited».
«What will you do in Athens?»
«It is the city where I have always dreamed of living, for its richness and for its politics, where art and architecture meet with poetry and philosophy, where love for the sea blends with the curiosity and knowledge. What could I have more? Iâm 20, I want to live in the centre of the world and Athens is the centre of the world».
«Where do you come from? Usually the girls who can boast a beauty like yours think about how to marry instead of seeking the centre of the world».
«Not for me, stranger. My family is of ancient Pelasgic origin, the seaâs sailors. They are called Etruscan in the Tyrrhenian, Ionians in the Aegean. Youâll find the Ionian Sea wherever the Tyrrhenian seems to be interrupted and reappear as Aegean».
«Iâm from the Ionian Sea too, Iâm from the Beautiful City, Kali-polis, but my name seems