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Gedicht

Sudesh Mishra

The Rowers

The Rowers

The Rowers

Inclement weather. We’re rowing between two rocks
For a third which is palpable yet unreachable.
We had foreknowledge of this before setting off
From a port with a name too fluttery to pin down.
Before us, the channel sticks out a tongue,
Raw, wildly gangrenous, and vows to steer us
Safely beyond the cape of pulsing knives.
It’s a wasted pledge since our one belief
Is the substance of a doubt, solid, unprisable
As the shell stigmata badging the gunwale,
Signifying the passage of being not time.
So, framed by two rocks, we aim the prow
Towards a third that neither wanes nor grows,
Certain that our reach will exceed our grasp.
Sudesh Mishra

Sudesh Mishra

(Fiji, 1962)

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The Rowers

Inclement weather. We’re rowing between two rocks
For a third which is palpable yet unreachable.
We had foreknowledge of this before setting off
From a port with a name too fluttery to pin down.
Before us, the channel sticks out a tongue,
Raw, wildly gangrenous, and vows to steer us
Safely beyond the cape of pulsing knives.
It’s a wasted pledge since our one belief
Is the substance of a doubt, solid, unprisable
As the shell stigmata badging the gunwale,
Signifying the passage of being not time.
So, framed by two rocks, we aim the prow
Towards a third that neither wanes nor grows,
Certain that our reach will exceed our grasp.

The Rowers

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
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