Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Joy Goswami

THE HEAT PRISES OPEN MY EYES. PUSHING AWAY A LAYER

The heat prises open my eyes. Pushing away a layer
of sand I emerge. No ice on the mountains
the trees standing sticks of wood
the city black iron brick heap of concrete mud

the sun a giant wheel scattering pale and yellow
After one billion years, the sky is finished
all its fuel burned up and gone.

I stand on the sea of sand, my hands folded
I invoke the sky, come down on me,
    – smear my forehead with your ashen sun!

THE HEAT PRISES OPEN MY EYES. PUSHING AWAY A LAYER

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THE HEAT PRISES OPEN MY EYES. PUSHING AWAY A LAYER

The heat prises open my eyes. Pushing away a layer
of sand I emerge. No ice on the mountains
the trees standing sticks of wood
the city black iron brick heap of concrete mud

the sun a giant wheel scattering pale and yellow
After one billion years, the sky is finished
all its fuel burned up and gone.

I stand on the sea of sand, my hands folded
I invoke the sky, come down on me,
    – smear my forehead with your ashen sun!

THE HEAT PRISES OPEN MY EYES. PUSHING AWAY A LAYER

The heat prises open my eyes. Pushing away a layer
of sand I emerge. No ice on the mountains
the trees standing sticks of wood
the city black iron brick heap of concrete mud

the sun a giant wheel scattering pale and yellow
After one billion years, the sky is finished
all its fuel burned up and gone.

I stand on the sea of sand, my hands folded
I invoke the sky, come down on me,
    – smear my forehead with your ashen sun!
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Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
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Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
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