Outward Bound

Indian Ocean: Postal Maritime:

Steaming at fourteen knots, the Andrew B.

The sun sets in its jammy mess of crime

Into this flat, seemingly hand-smoothed sea.

Miss Roseway, who is bound for Adelaide

To her fiancé’s Home Sweet Home of sheep,

Can’t cure my spleen’s distemper, I’m afraid,

Her lorgnette quizzing at the Lakshadweep.

Reluctantly, I shall attend the dance

This evening: lanterns on the bridge; romance.

(I’m partnering Miss Roseway, who solicits

For shipwrecked sailors’ families, in the nicest

Possibleway!) O, may I, in the waltz,

Cradling her kidneys, gently draw her on

To shipwreck! God will recognise his own…

Translation from French by © Timothy Ades