The IJsselmeer Dam

The bus drives through the darkness like a room,
the narrow road is straight, the dam is endless,
the sea is on the left, subdued but restless,
we look out, a smallish moon relieves the gloom.
In front of me, the freshly-shaven necks
of two young sailors, who smother one yawn, then another
and later, after a quick and limber stretch,
sleep innocently leaning on each other.
Then all at once, as if it’s a dream, I see in the glass
the thin, transparent gleam of a bus that’s wed to ours,
sometimes as clear as us, then underwater, drowned;
the clumps of roadside grass
cut through the sleeping seamen.
I see myself as well, my features
floating over the surface
of the sea, an astonished mermaid;
lips move as if to say,
There is no tomorrow, no yesterday,
no start or end to this long trip,
just one extended present – strangely split.