[The sun rises, the breeze falls silent] Poem by Hélène Dorion

The sun rises, the breeze falls silent,
the horizon remains clear.

A first ship drifts away,
- white sails beat
and like the waves, crumple.

What destiny? What measure
of wind, of darkness, and of time
what hope?

One after the other the ships advance,
each toward the unknown it reveals.
Each one gathers its burden of questions,
casts off and recedes
like a cloud in a storm.

Whence this ground? This shoreline
the soul brushes with its gentle edge?

The voyage shakes my body, my heart.
Burned by death
I do not yet know how to burn
with the fire of my life.

translated by by Karen Solie