The souls' journey
SocratesNo poet here below has ever sung the place beyond heaven as it deserves, nor will any poet do so. It is like this—for we must dare to speak the truth, especially in speaking of truth itself. The being that truly is has no colour, no shape and cannot be touched. Only the mind, the soul’s pilot, can see it; it is the object of true knowledge. This is its place. The mind of a god is nourished by pure understanding and knowledge. So too every soul that cares to receive the food proper to it rejoices when, after a time, it sees what is. It gazes at truth, is nourished and flourishes, until the revolution carries it back to the same point. During the circuit it sees justice itself, self-control itself and knowledge itself—not knowledge that comes into being, nor that which differs among the various things we now call beings, but knowledge that is in what truly is. Having likewise seen the other things that truly are and feasted on them, the soul descends again inside heaven and returns home. There the charioteer brings his horses to the manger, sets ambrosia before them and gives them nectar to drink.