From Canto I
In the third pinnace
(that of the women)
another custom prevails
Four among them have dived beneath the waterline
in order to patch up the hull
Others bail out the rising water with calabashes
Beneath a canopy a lovely lady
has her russet hair braided and finds distraction
in observing her lady friend’s massage
while three girls relentlessly try to catch fish
Apart from the rest is the one whose belly refuses seed
and who wished to offer her ordeal and her youth
to repay an old debt
in truth contracted by others long ago
Which is to say that despite the breaches and cracks
she hold back the swell this tertian pirogue
that strives and toils
There is laughter prayer rowing
There are wisecracks aplenty about men
and every kind of song:
even death is derided
and unabashedly
From Canto II
Sire recall the sandy esplanade
which had to be bargained for at the river mouth
to build and caulk out almadies
amass our provisions lodge our squads
Recall the crowd that gathered on the shore:
first came blacksmiths fishermen woodworkers
who all season long would work themselves sore
Then upstream there were trees taken down
to float their enormous trunks down
—but only those whose brown veins ripple
those whose purple sap tastes like seaweed and salt
and whose leaves like a sail embrace the wind
(For what is a tree pray tell whose green desire
for open seas does not storm the sky…)
Received upon arrival by the ax-masters
their hearts were hollowed out to beating drums
And the rough shape of each hull
was clamped in a vise and put to the flame
—the prows for their part were finish with an adze
Meanwhile ropemakers potters and weavers
toting their several talents had arrived
And coarse bark was stripped from baobabs
to make ropes and moorings of them
The seeds were taken from the shea trees
and from the kapoks their fine silk-cotton
to seal the slightest breach between the plans
Since some pitch was also needed
saps and oils were blended into jugs
Pigments of all kinds were ground
to paint above the quickwork prettily
and to trace withal signs and oaths
Cages and creels and fyke nets were made
anchors spare oars shifting boards
coffers duckboards plumes
and the gods only know what else
With all your help then let the scene be set
with a few formulas a refrain an epithet
till I’m back on my feet and catch my breath
***
Be on the look out for a book feature on this collection next week!
From THE NEVERENDING QUEST FOR THE OTHER SHORE: AN EPIC IN THREE CANTOS (La quête infinie de l’autre rive. Épopée en trois chants) by Sylvie Kandé, published by Wesleyan Univeristy Press. English translation Copyright © 2022 by Alexander Dickow.
Buy The Neverending Quest for the Other Shore: An Epic in Three Cantos: Amazon
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