Interlude

Complainte du petit cheval blanc

Le petit cheval dans le mauvais temps, qu'il avait donc du courage !

C'était un petit cheval blanc, tous derrière et lui devant.

Il n'y avait jamais de beau temps dans ce pauvre paysage.

Il n'y avait jamais de printemps, ni derrière ni devant.

Mais toujours il était content, menant les gars du village,

A travers la pluie noire des champs, tous derrière et lui devant.

Sa voiture allait poursuivant sa belle petite queue sauvage.

C'est alors qu'il était content, eux derrière et lui devant.

Mais un jour, dans le mauvais temps, un jour qu'il était si sage,

Il est mort par un éclair blanc, tous derrière et lui devant.

Il est mort sans voir le beau temps, qu'il avait donc du courage !

Il est mort sans voir le printemps ni derrière ni devant.

Paul FORT

When I was little, around 6 years-old, we used to have to learn poems by heart. One day, I remember our regular teacher being absent for the day and a replacement teacher took over for the day. I can no longer remember whether it was a woman or a man, although I think it may have been a woman. Whenever we had a replacement teacher, we knew we wouldn't be doing much work, so we liked it because it sort of felt like a holiday for the day. In this particular instance, the replacement teacher decided to give us a choice of different poems to learn rather than impose just one on us. We had to read them all and then vote for the one we liked the most - and the one the majority liked would be the one we'd have to learn by heart. That day that little poem came up in the selection, roughly translated as "the little white horse's complaint". It was my favorite of the batch, and it always remained so... It was the first ever poem that my heart fell in love with, could relate to... I don't know, but it marked me. Maybe that's because sometimes I feel like I am it. I am the little white horse in the story.