Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Mamang Dai

Floating Island

Floating Island

Floating Island

The sloping mountain is trying to reach me
stretching down into the water.
Dear one, don’t go away.
Rest, rest on my shoulder.

Deep in my centre a woman is asleep
pressing her cheek on my pillow
vivid with dreams.
The birds of summer are nesting in her breast.

Who knows which way the spinning current will spin.
Farewell, blind mountain, pasted on the sky,
when the day is folded away
my heart clings to the life of water.

Into the deep, into the sea green
navigating on a heartbeat,
the lilies are shooting up like swordfish
and the woman is laughing, laughing.
Close

Floating Island

The sloping mountain is trying to reach me
stretching down into the water.
Dear one, don’t go away.
Rest, rest on my shoulder.

Deep in my centre a woman is asleep
pressing her cheek on my pillow
vivid with dreams.
The birds of summer are nesting in her breast.

Who knows which way the spinning current will spin.
Farewell, blind mountain, pasted on the sky,
when the day is folded away
my heart clings to the life of water.

Into the deep, into the sea green
navigating on a heartbeat,
the lilies are shooting up like swordfish
and the woman is laughing, laughing.

Floating Island

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère