Story of the Foreign Fairy Chapter 33

In a poet's room, someone saw an inkpot on the table and said, "It's amazing what an inkpot can produce! What could be the next step? Yes, it must be amazing!"

"That's true," said the inkpot. "That's unimaginable how often I say that!" he said to the quill and other objects on the table within earshot. "How wonderful the things that come out of me are! Yes, it's almost unbelievable! When people put the pen into my body, I don't know what I can produce next. I can write half a page and record a lot of things with only one drop of mine. I am indeed a wonderful thing. All the poets' works are produced in me: the vivid things that people think they know. People, all deep emotions, humor, beautiful pictures of nature, etc. I don’t understand it myself, because I don’t know nature, but it undoubtedly exists in my body: floating. The crowd, the beautiful girl, the warrior on the horse, PerDver and Gisdanjimel (Note: They are also the two human figures on the bell of the main church in the ancient Danish city of Rosgylde. Every one o'clock, PerDver (perDver) ) and every quarter of an hour, Kirstenkimer. Yes, I don’t know what I’ll get out of it.”

"You're right!" said Quill. "You don't use your mind at all, because if you use your mind, you will understand that you are just supplying a little liquid. You shed water so that I can express clearly what is in my heart and actually write on paper. It’s a pen! No one will doubt this. Most people’s understanding of poetry is no different than an old inkpot.”

"You have so little experience!" said the inkpot. "In less than a week, you are already half dead from exhaustion. Do you fancy yourself a poet? You are just a servant. Before you came, I knew a lot of people like you. Many of you belong to the Goose quills (note: pens in ancient times were made of goose quills.) Some of this family are made in England! I have dealt with both quill pens and fountain pens! Many of them have served me; when others come back, there are more. Many will come to serve me, and he will act on my behalf and write what he takes out of me. I would like to know what he will take out of me first."

"Ink!" said the pen.