I wonder
How long I must look before seeing an insect,

Whether my eyes can ever forget that boat.
One experiences riches and poverty by the sea, certainly,

As objects. I yearn after objects,
I yearn to make objects my own,

To own and let go! Hear the orders
Given on the boat, the rattle of chains, the drop

In the deep! Songs are sung out of boredom,
Like the song about glorious freight decaying,

Oh dear oh dear, that the hatches should not be clean
And flags not visible to explorers

Rushing to desert islands, that's right,
With their flippers and their oxygen tanks.

I want the sea to keep on existing. No needs,
No wants. The love for the sea, for the water,

For the sea and the water, for the sea, for the water,
This is how I want to love the sea, like this, no senses,

To be sung, to love the sea like that,
First I want to love the sea. Hahahaaaahhh,

Hahhhaaaahhhaah, sight and sound are leaving me!
Desires are the men and mice!

I'd like to see the conquest, the approaching might,
The approaching night, the night with all her tentacles,

I wish to see fish glitter in the dark,
Black like the feeling extremities of one's will,

I want the sea to be eternal, an eternal beginning,
I want the boat to come closer, silently,

Still. As absent as air and light.
Must we not lower our heads respectfully by the sea?

In awe of the whole God Almighty world?
Unthinkable! I want to stand upright by the sea!

The boat of inevitable farewell becomes smaller,
Becomes smaller in response to a signal,

Such immeasurability, such monotony,
I'd like another name for my experience,

Resembling a boat, many miles from the coast,
A name existing in three realities.

I don't even want the beginnings of understanding,
I yearn for that one and only girlfriend,

The girl who loves me rather noisily,
She has a weakness for shells and stars,

Come to me, my dearest. I don't quite grasp
The intentions of that boat, some squabbles, maybe,

Regarding stowaways, the discharge of one's duties,
Or regarding a woman. Indeed, up and down,

The boat sails up and down, in search of something,
As if the wind whispered in the ears of the men,

As if…But wait, I'm beginning to understand what I see,
I see the want of birds in festive array

And the invasion by the colours blue and grey.
Yes, objects by the sea have beautiful names,

They evoke the continual rejuvenation
Of naming, the restitution of desires, aha…

That boat reminds me of a hungry beast
Even though I don't believe in the supernatural,

Reminds me of a part of your body
Even though I don't believe in naturalness.

Most birds celebrate their festivals
Outside the realm of our extravagant senses,

Behind the back of waves, under water,
Beside ghostly pieces of sky, inside our coats.

I want the boat to loose its anchors,
I want to see obscurity pass through our language

And I want to know why that one bird is lonesome.
Oh lovely song, put an end to our random dreams,

Please tell us that bird isn't lonesome!
I see the sea, a bird, a boat, the sky

Getting ready to make predictions,
A sleepy fish, a folding fish, a threatening fish, a fish

Made of foam, and singing fish and leaping fish!
The boat is coming this way, coming closer,

Approaching our world by fits and starts,
I want the darkness to yield buoys,

That boat could disturb the quiet of spirits!
Strong pains are in my shoulders, in my arms,

I want the man who loves me on stairways.

English translation by Jeltje Fanoy