Sophie Doulut, “The Ivory Horse”
One day I rode a magnificent ivory horse
It took me up high into the sky
Galloping as fast as it could,
Bolting from one cloud to the other,
And I finally landed
Onto another soil,
A foreign kingdom
Where strange people
Spoke a different tongue.
‘Maybe I will find
My Arabian prince’,
Thought I.
‘Where can I meet Thee?’
Said I.
Surprisingly the horse replied
‘Who do you think I am?
Some mere machine
With mechanical designs,
With no heart inside?’
Whined He.
And like Aladdin
Riding an ebony horse
I realized true love
Was not predictable
And could take Ovidian shapes.
Being thus invisible
To my eyes,
But not to my heart,
Being deaf
To my ears,
But not to my soul.
The ivory horse
Was but an allegory
Of the love
I hadn’t seen
It was withering
Like some forgotten orchid
In the realm of the Unconscious.
So hark, reader, hear me!
Love can be hidden
Within a friend’s heart,
Within an acquaintance’s eyes,
Love can be found
Next door,
Across from where you live,
And ignored
For being too common
And not original.
But the harp of your soul
Plays in tune with it,
And your mind might know,
But will fatefully turn down
The apple of your eyes…
Sophie Doulut, Les Arcanes de l’Esprit, 1997-2009