Íosa, mac Mhuire/ Jesus, son of Mary

 Íosa, mac Mhuire/ Jesus, son of Mary is an ekphrastic poem in Irish and English by Gabriel Rosenstock,  inspired by Christuskopf, a painting by German artist Hermann Stenner (1891 -1914) and these words from The Holy Quran, 3.45:  

"O Mary, indeed Allah gives you good tidings of a word from Him, whose name will be the Messiah, Īsā, (Jesus), the son of Mary."

                              

    Íosa, mac Mhuire

    A Íosa, an mbíonn tú fós ag guí?
    An mbíonn tú ag guí ar son deireadh na coimhlinte
    sa Phalaistín, d'fhód dúchais?
    Nó deireadh leis an bPalaistín féin
    Deireadh le hIosrael
    Deireadh le gach náisiún?
    Nach fada i mbun mioscaise iad na náisiúin chéanna.
    Más domhan gan náisiún ar bith ann do ghuíse,

    A Chroí Ró-Naofa, Íosa,

    Lig dom guí  id' theanntasa.

    Jesus, son of Mary

    Jesus, do you still pray?
    Do you pray for the end of conflict
    in Palestine, your native home,
    Or do you pray for the end of Palestine itself
    The end of Israel
    The end of all nations?
    Nations have been brewing mischief long enough.
    If a nationless world is your prayer,

  O Sacred Heart of Jesus

    Allow me to pray with you.

Aiséirí / Resurrection

Aiséirí / Resurrection is an anti-war poem, in Irish and English, in response to a painting of the same title by Hermann Stenner who was only 23 when he was killed during the First World War.

 

 

Auferstehung (1914) Hermann Stenner

 Resurrection

Will they rise from the dead
the casualties of all wars;
will armies be cleansed, miraculously,
of their hate, and prejudice?
Will war propaganda be recognised as what it really is -
lie after lie after lie.
If not, and if we plunge into World War III
will newspapers print one last headline:
OOPS, WE SHOULDN'T HAVE ENCOURAGED THEM!
Too late now.

 Aiséirí

Na mairbh a cailleadh i ngach cogadh go dtí seo
an bhfuil sé i ndán dóibh aiséirí;
an nglanfar na saighdiúirí, trí mhíorúilt éigin
ionas nach n-aithneoidh siad fuath ná claontacht go deo arís?
An ndearbhófar ansin bolscaireacht chogaidh
mar bhréag i ndiaidh bréige i ndiaidh bréige?
Mura dtarlóidh sé sin, agus má thumfar sa Tríú Cogadh Domhanda sinn
an mbeidh ceannlíne amháin fágtha ag na nuachtáin:
HOIPS, NÍOR CHEART DÚINN IAD A SPREAGADH!
Ródhéanach, is baolach.

 

 

 

 

 

Dán

Fómhar 2024/ Autumn2024 is an ekphrastic poem in Irish and English by Gabriel Rosenstock, in response to a work of art (c.1874) by Hungarian poet-philosopher  
László Mednyánszky.

 

 

Fómhar

 
Ar thugais faoi ndeara?
Tá an fómhar ann!
Fómhar lom, bréan.
Is dealbh é an domhan
agus is folamh é croí an duine.
Ní bhraithimid cumhracht a thuilleadh,
Toradh ár saothair i bpáirceanna is i bhfíonghoirt.
A fháinleoga, an ag teacht atá sibh
Nó ag imeacht,
Den uair dheireanach?
 
 

Autumn

 
Have you noticed?
It is autumn now!
A bare, foul autumn.
The world is denuded
and the heart of Man is empty.
It cannot detect fragrances, fruits,
The rewards of labouring in fields and vineyards.
Swallows, are you coming
Or are you going
For the last time?
 

 Herbst 2024

 
Habt ihr es bemerkt?
Es ist Herbst!
Ein barer, garstiger Herbst.
Die Welt ist entblößt
Und das Herz des Menschen leer.
Es kann keine Düfte wahrnehmen, keine Früchte,
Keinen Ertrag der Arbeit auf Feldern und in Weinbergen.
Schwalben, kommt ihr
Oder geht ihr
Zum letzten Mal?
 

Übertragung ins Deutsche: Jürgen Schneider

Polaitíocht na hEagla / The Politics of Fear

Maynard Dixon      

                               

The Politics of Fear

       

We do not know who or what we are

We huddle in fear

There is no warmth from one another

Nothing but cold fear.

Leaders of the world, have you brought us to this?

Fear begins to smell like a rotting animal

A fox shot between the two eyes

Its tongue hanging out limply, scorched by the sun

                                    

Polaitíocht na hEagla

Táimid gróigthe le chéile agus eagla orainn

Níl teas ar bith ag teacht óna chéile

Fuareagla amháin.

A cheannairí an domhain, an é seo toradh bhur gcuid oibre?

Tagann boladh ainmhí ón eagla, ainmhí atá ag lobhadh

 Sionnach a lámhachadh idir an dá shúil

A theanga ar liobarna, barrdhóite ag an ngrian

tafann na dtonn

A PDF of a new book of photo-haiku herewith, The Barking Waves

This is a broad explanatory note on the project:

A great landscape photographer is aware of the Heraclitean maxim, 'You never step into the same river twice'. What does that mean? It means

that American master photographer Ron Rosenstock has been exploring the mysterious and ever-delightful hinterland of Westport for the past half-century without ever

tiring of it! Today's disease is, 'Been there, done that.' Have you really been there? Have you been anywhere? Without awareness, without mindfulness you've been nowhere. And if you go back, do you think it's going to be the same place? How could it be? Heraclitus says, Panta rhei, all is flux! Even in the space of half an hour, the landscapes of Co. Mayo, so prized by Ron Rosenstock, can change in a second.

A cloud appears that wasn't there before. The light begins to work its magic, to announce the coming of twilight. These ever-changing variations of light and shade create landscapes which bewitch and invite not only the photographer, but the haikuist as well. The haikuist is conscious of a living landscape and when the two artforms come

together, photography and haiku, we can create meditative moments together. The experience, when repeated over and over again, can sharpen and enrich our awareness of the living world and contribute to mindfulness.

I have followed Ron on his photographic tours and odysseys, to Morocco, Scotland, the Faroe Islands - and Mayo! - not as a chronicler. To describe what I see would be tautologous. What the haikuist does is somehow to reflect the spiritual or poetic effect which the photograph has on his consciousness. I view Ron's photographs as

masterpieces. I can return to a photo I haven't looked at in a year and write a completely new haiku to match it. It seems to me that each photograph is mysteriously alive!

Print version from Foyles 

Éilias á chothú ag fiach dubh

Giovanni Girolamo Savoldo (1485 – 1548)

Éilias

Tá an scéal ar eolas agat.

Má tá na gadhair sona

gan chúis -

tá cúis leis!

Tá Éilias, fáidh, sa chomharsanacht!

A leithéid de dhuine!

Mar sin, abair liom.

Conas tá na gadhair na laethanta seo

in Rafah?

An sona dóibh?

ELIJAH

Ye ken the crack.

Whan the dugs'r blithe

fir nae raison -

thair's a raison!

The prophet Elijah is near haun!

Whit a chiel!

So, witter me

hou'r the dugs thae days

in Rafah?

ur thay blithe?

                               

Leagan Béarla na hAlban: John McDonald

  

Ο Ηλίας

Ξέρεις την ιστορία.

Όταν τα σκυλιά είναι χαρούμενα

για κανένα λόγο –

υπάρχει λόγος!

Ο προφήτης Ηλίας είναι στη γειτονιά!

Τι τύπος!

Λοιπόν πες μου

Πώς είναι τα σκυλιά

αυτές τις μέρες στη Ράφα;

Είναι χαρούμενα;

Leagan Gréigise: Dino Siotis

Elijah

You know the story.

When the dogs are happy

for no reason -

there's a reason!

The prophet Elijah is in the neighbourhood!

What a guy!

So, tell me

How are the dogs these days

in Rafah?

Are they happy?

Image: Kazuyuki Ohtsu

A single leaf falls 

then suddenly another

stolen by the breeze.

Rensetsup

1654-1707

titeann duilleog aonair

ansin go tobann

sciobann leoithne ceann eile

jedan list padne

tada odjednom drugi

ukraden lahorom

Croatian: Tomislav Maretić

ஓர் இலை உதிர்கிறது

உடனே இன்னொன்று

காற்று களவாடிச் செல்கிறது

Tamil : Tamilmainthan John Richard