Líon Folamh Damháin Alla
“Ná caith do chuid ama ag scríobh dánta nó aistí ar Zen . . .”Nyogen Senzaki
Is fada anois ó leagas súil ar dhamhán alla
ach tá an t-am féin tamall maith in easnamh:
Cad is am damháin alla ann?
An ndeir sé leis féin,
‘Tá tamall maith anois ann ambaist ó nocht mo dhuine
an scrioblálaí a thugann faoi deara mé
is nach gá dom eagla a bheith orm roimhe.’
Dá nochtfadh sé anois, an damhán alla,
d’fhéadfaimis ár gcuid móideanna a thabhairt arís:
Gan cur isteach ar a chéile go deo
ár gconair féin a leanúint
scéalta a fhí, neamhspleách ar a chéile.
Creathán sa líon folamh.
An bhfuil sé chugainn? An damhán alla? As an bhfolús?
Níl, níl ann ach feoithne
séideán as ball éigin
Nó an aigne, díreach, gluaiseacht
shíodúil na haigne
Empty Cobweb
“Do not spend time writing poems or essays on Zen . . .”Nyogen Senzaki
A long time now since I have seen a spider
but time, too, has been such a long while away:
What is spider-time?
Does spider think,
‘A long time now since that bloke appeared
the scribbler who notices me
the one I needn’t fear.’
If only he would show up now, spider,
we could renew our vows –
never to interfere with each other
go our own way
weave our tales, independently.
The empty cobweb flutters.
Is he coming? Spider? From nowhere?
No, it’s only a breeze
a draught from somewhere
Or the mind, simply, silky
movement of mind
