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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=580047" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To A Sea Unicorn</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In Paris once, <br> where these things can happen, <br>across the street from the Louvre, I came<br> to a stand of walking sticks.<br>  Against the window</div><div style="margin:10px 0">  of an antique shop, <br> they leaned like bare trees<br>in the Tuileries, as if to get out of the wind, <br> though they were indoors.<br>  I knew the feeling.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">  I drew my coat closer<br> against the Napoleonic cold.<br>The canes swaggered no more. Out on their own, <br> they'd taken a wrong turn<br>  from the past, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">  only to find<br> their walking days over.<br>The one with a cut-glass knob, the silver-handled, <br> and the one with a snake turning back<br>  on itself: in their midst, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">  towering over them, <br> a narwhal tusk as tall as I was—<br>like the one I'd seen in a room where it was still<br> the fifteenth century. Where, <br>  in the unicorn tapestries, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">  only the lady aged, <br> panel by panel, until she and I<br>were of an age too old to countenance a unicorn, <br> no matter how handsome.<br>  Narwhal, sea-unicorn, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">  your four-footed, <br> goat-bearded ghost no longer walks<br>this earth, avoiding capture except by the artist.<br> Its horn no longer parts the folds<br>  of a maiden's skirt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">  Is this enough<br> to save you, my unlikely one? <br>The ocean of the north is yours, as it always was.<br> The ice spreads a blanket over it.<br>  Water falls on water, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">  mille fleurs of snow<br> through which you surface in air<br>cold enough to carve, a whale with a tooth<br> that spirals into a tusk of dream—<br>  no one knows why.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Surya+Raman">Surya Raman</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=580047" data-title="To A Sea Unicorn de Surya Raman" data-description="In Paris once, 
 where these things can happen, 
across the street from the Louvre, I came
 to a stand of walking sticks.
  Against the window

  of an antique shop, 
 they leaned like bare trees
in the Tuileries, as if to get out of the wind, 
 t..."></div>
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