KA

Exhibit in Hall 17: Woodcarving of a minor official and his wife from pre-dynastic Memphis

It seems long, long ago,
That wet, grey-wintered Paris day,
When I first saw the two of you,
Standing all alone in the silence of the shadows.
Two lovers, safe within a private peace,
Calm, content to remain forever,
Amidst dreams once shared,
As lovers often are.

What ancient, ever-living dreams,
Running like threads of silver through the fabric of time,
Have nourished and sustained you gentle dreamers,
Throughout all your long, abundant feast of infinity?
While my own poor portion,
My brief rind of time,
Has already dimmed my eyes
And all but slipped away

Yesterday,
Before the clamour grew,
Before first pharaoh dawned
To shake his fist and wear the double crown,
Standing together beside living mother Nile,
You watched your golden father of the sky
Tease rich azure,
From the home of crocodiles.

An artist, who loved you both,
Shared your spirits with an ancient log.
A gift of the river,
Brought downstream from the forests of eternity,
And with caresses of bronze and strokes of flint
He left you wooded in togetherness,
Arm in arm,
To await the ends of time.