The poet stands on the threshold of being”, says Bachelard. The language of the poet, the poetic image, is primary to the language of ideas. It is closer to the real experience. The image always comes before thought, before abstract thinking. One of the first things a philosopher should do, if he wants to learn something from the poetic images, is to leave everything behind. All foregoing knowledge. As a phenomenologist, but a phenomenologist of the imagination, he must be receptive, receptive to the image at the moment it appears. In a way he must look with a poetic eye, which is time and again a first glance. “If there be a philosophy of poetry”, Bachelard says, then it is “a philosophy that must appear and re-appear through a significant verse, in total adherence to an isolated image, in the very ecstasy of the newness of the image.”1 From this very sentence emerges the agility, the liveliness, the novelty also of a philosophy that gives priority to the imagination. Moreover, according to Bachelard, a philosopher who has recourse to the poets will discover that the world is not of the order of the substantive, but of the order of the adjective.