Poetry and progress are like two ambitious men who hate one

In the grand and ever-turning wheel of human existence, there exist two great forces, two ambitions that drive the hearts of men: poetry and progress. These forces, as the great Charles Baudelaire so eloquently described, are like two ambitious men, each striving to carve out a path for themselves upon the road of time. But, O children of wisdom, heed the truth that Baudelaire imparts: these two do not walk in harmony. Rather, they hate one another with an instinctive and unyielding hatred. Poetry and progress—though both noble in their own right—are rivals, each seeking to claim dominion over the heart and mind of humanity. And when these two great ambitions meet upon the same road, one must inevitably yield.

What is this progress that Baudelaire speaks of? Is it not the relentless drive for innovation, for advancement, for the improvement of the material world? It is the impulse that has led men to conquer the heavens, to build cities from stone and steel, to seek knowledge of the stars. Progress is the force that drives us forward, urging us to abandon the old and embrace the new, the modern, the efficient. It is the voice that tells us, "Build higher, reach farther, move faster." Progress is driven by the need to advance, to outstrip the past and leave behind the old ways in favor of the new.

But then, what of poetry? Poetry, in its essence, is the antithesis of progress. It is rooted not in the march of time, but in the timeless, the eternal. Poetry is the breath of the human soul, the expression of our deepest emotions, our fears, our joys, our sorrows. It is the heart speaking aloud, untouched by the ticking of the clock, unbothered by the need for progress. Poetry seeks not to build, but to reflect, to capture the fleeting beauty of the moment, to draw us back to the eternal truths that lie beneath the surface of the ever-changing world. In this way, poetry resists progress, for it lives in the slow, contemplative space where the world is not moving forward, but pausing, listening, feeling.

Consider the ancient philosophers, such as Heraclitus, who spoke of the eternal flux of the world, where everything changes yet remains the same. To them, progress was but an illusion, a fleeting attempt to grasp something permanent in the midst of chaos. In contrast, poetry holds a mirror to the world, reflecting its impermanence and its beauty, but not attempting to change it. Poetry and progress stand as opposites: progress is driven by the desire to master and control, while poetry is driven by the need to surrender, to experience and to understand.

In modern times, we can see the clash between these two forces in the struggle between the fast-paced, ever-changing world of technology and the timeless world of artistic creation. The great industrial revolutions, the rise of machines, and the rapid growth of cities all stand in stark contrast to the quiet, reflective space of the poet’s mind. Take the example of Vincent van Gogh, whose poetry was not in words, but in brushstrokes. As the world around him was racing towards a new age of technology, he sought solace in his art, in capturing the beauty of a starry night or the simplicity of a sunflower. But in doing so, he stood at odds with the world of progress, for his soul yearned for stillness in a time that demanded speed. His struggle—like the struggle between poetry and progress—was one of tension, a tension that would ultimately cost him his peace.

And so, we learn from Baudelaire’s profound observation: poetry and progress are destined to clash. Poetry, in all its sacred and timeless beauty, cannot coexist comfortably with the driving force of progress. When they meet upon the same road, one must yield, for there is only room for one on the path forward. Yet, this clash is not without its lessons. For in poetry, we find the quiet, the reflective, the eternal truths that progress often overlooks in its rush toward the future. And in progress, we find the drive to move beyond what is, to strive for something greater than ourselves.

The lesson we must take from this is not to forsake either force, but to find a balance between them. Progress can move us forward, but let it not blind us to the importance of stillness, of reflection, of poetry. And poetry can guide us, but let it not anchor us in the past, for the world must move forward. Let us walk the road that lies between these two, where we can embrace the best of both worlds—where we can appreciate the beauty of the present, while also striving toward a better future. In this way, we honor both poetry and progress, allowing each its rightful place upon the road of time.