Gedicht

Moniza Alvi

Side by side

Doors

Doors

Doors

I observed that her knuckles were raw
with the effort of knocking on doors.

And if they opened she’d have difficulty
passing through – the awkwardness

of easing in with her world intact.
More than once I implored her to give up.

But I admired my wife, in a way –
the single-mindedness, her fierce pursuit.

She worked attentively, whenever she could,
at her listening skills, honing them

by day and night
on the creaking of a far-off door.

© 2005, Moniza Alvi
From: How the Stone Found Its Voice
Publisher: Bloodaxe, Tarset

Published with kind permission of the author and Bloodaxe (www.bloodaxebooks.com).

Moniza Alvi

Moniza Alvi

(Pakistan, 1954)

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Gedichten van Moniza Alvi

Doors

from ‘At the Time of Partition’

from ‘At the Time of Partition’

How the Stone Found Its Voice

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Doors

I observed that her knuckles were raw
with the effort of knocking on doors.

And if they opened she’d have difficulty
passing through – the awkwardness

of easing in with her world intact.
More than once I implored her to give up.

But I admired my wife, in a way –
the single-mindedness, her fierce pursuit.

She worked attentively, whenever she could,
at her listening skills, honing them

by day and night
on the creaking of a far-off door.

From: How the Stone Found Its Voice

Published with kind permission of the author and Bloodaxe (www.bloodaxebooks.com).

Doors

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