(for Michele)

    In a strange land called Grammaria there lived a young man by the name of Syntax. He had a father by the name of Ordinus, who worked all day in his laboratory conducting secret scientific experiments. Ordinus would not allow anyone to enter his laboratory and kept it locked away from intruders.

    Syntax had a mother by the name of Regula, who spent her days cooking in the kitchen. They had a big microwave oven and a television set, which Syntax used to watch once in a while. From the early age Syntax understood that every person must have his or her place, and that was why Ordinus spent his time in his laboratory and his wife Regula, in the kitchen.

    Ever since he was a little boy, Syntax was interested in the arrangements and interrelationships of things and he used to take things apart and study them. One day he took his father's computer apart but was unable to put it back together. He was ten years old then, and his father--enraged to see his computer taken apart like that--removed a belt from his trousers and whipped the boy.

    So Syntax understood that analysis and curiosity can get one into trouble. But in his heart he continued the search.

    Why does Regula spend all her life in the kitchen? Why won't Ordinus let anyone into his laboratory? He remembered the time when he was punished for his curiosity and tears rolled down his cheeks. "Poor Syntax," he thought to himself. "You'll never learn. You'll always be questioning things. Why? Why? You'll always be making yourself unhappy." As his tears rolled, Syntax imagined himself floating in the magical mist of words and phrases, numbers and equations, facts and theories, feeling very small and insignificant. "Why? Why do I live each day not knowing what my place is? Why do my parents know what their place is and I don't?" Every night Syntax would look up at the sky as if there was something out there that knew the answer to his questions. Tired and sad, Syntax used to watch the moon outside his window and then, at last, he would go to sleep.

    And in his sleep he would dream of a land called Fantasia, where lived a young woman with black hair and sparkling eyes. Her name was Luna and she visited Syntax every night in his dreams. Luna. Her face was glowing with strange joy and excitement. She wore a black dress and a necklace of pearls and she spoke a mysterious language of the dream world:

Olla, ella, olla,
Stella radiola!
Come, my love, and sing this song
Till the early lights of dawn...
Olla, brilla, bella,
Lux irrationella!
In the stellar pulchritude
Play the misty interlude...

    She sang and then disappeared, and Syntax dreamt of crystal boats dissolving in the emerald water of the seas; he dreamt of odd shapes and forms floating in a pink mist, of strange flowers with long purple petals, and he felt his whole body change into a plant-like form: his hands were becoming leaves; his feet were branching out and giving rise to small white flowers, and the rest of his body would become covered with a thick bark. Then Syntax saw himself changing into different shapes; he was turning into water, sand, fire, mist, feeling like a large amorphous organism or a small dense ball of metal, bounded and unbounded, very heavy and weightless. And then he would sail on a crystal boat and hear Luna's voice: "Olla solaria, interpretaria! Quantitude, solitude, vociferous love..."

    O Syntax! If only he could understand what Luna's mysterious songs meant. Every day he would wake up and observe the routine tasks performed by his mother and father. Then he would see the dreadful microwave oven and the television set. What horror to live each day lonely and ignored! Not knowing one's place in the world. And, once in a while, the words of Luna's songs would flow through Syntax's head: "Olla, ella, olla, Stella radiola!..." "Grammarians must be very dull people," he thought. "They do not know of Luna. O beautiful Luna! If only they could hear your magic voice."

    Then, one night, when the family finished their supper, prepared in the microwave oven, and Ordinus went back to his laboratory, and Regula went to watch television, Syntax was alone in his room working on mathematical problems given to him by his father. Ordinus hoped that Syntax would become a mathematician to help him with his scientific research.

    After working on the problems for two hours Syntax began to feel exhausted and went to bed. And once again he dreamt of Luna. Only this time she didn't come to sing her mysterious songs.

    "Syntax," she said. "I will now be leaving you. But you will always know how to find me. Trust me. Some day we'll see each other again. There is one more thing. From now on you are no longer Syntax. From now on you are a Poet."

    Having said these words, Luna disappeared into the same strange mist that Syntax saw every night in his dreams. Syntax woke up in the middle of the night, not knowing why Luna had left him, nor what her words meant. "Luna! Luna!" her name rolled in his mind. "Why did you leave me?! What will I do in this lifeless world of my mother and father?" "Luna!" he exclaimed with tears in his eyes. He wept the whole night, hoping that she would return.

    But, from now on, each night that Syntax went to bed, Luna would not appear in his dreams. He could no longer see her beautiful face, nor hear her mysterious songs. A month has passed as Syntax worked on the math problems of his father in loneliness and dejection. "Luna! Luna!" he cried each day in tears.

    Then, one day, in total desperation, feeling that he will never see Luna again, Syntax tore up the paper with the correct solutions to his father's math problems. Suddenly the words of Luna's song began to flow through his head. He took a blank piece of paper and started writing:

Olla, ella, olla,
Stella radiola!
Come, my love, and sing this song
Till the early lights of dawn...
Olla, brilla, bella,
Lux irrationella!
In the stellar pulchritude
Play the misty interlude...

For a brief moment he saw Luna's face in his mind's eye and it disappeared again.

     During the days that followed Syntax continued to write more and more strange and mysterious songs, and the image of Luna became clearer and stayed longer in his mind the more he wrote. But soon Syntax felt dissatisfied. "I must go and find her," he thought to himself.

    Finally, on one of those days when the sun was shining in Grammaria and all the Grammarians were going about their daily routine, Syntax packed his clothes into a small suitcase, took his collection of songs and made an announcement to his parents:

"Father! Mother! I'm no longer Syntax. I am a Poet! And I'm leaving Grammaria to find Luna."

Having said this, he kissed his parents and left. And to this day Grammarians are wondering: Where is Syntax? Who is Luna? What is a Poet?