Notes from India
i.m. Pearse Hutchinson (1927 -2012)
Sujata Bhatt
Two a.m. in Mumbai
and the crows are still loud.
They circle the trees –
hundreds of them around our house.
A crow has died and all the others
keep cawing, cawing through the night
into the morning – endlessly
they keep on calling for days.
I speak of death,
but it’s life I want to praise.
If your soul could travel
would you join me here?
A week later I’m surrounded
by the sound of Telegu
and the sound of another sea –
Even my sleep is green now
beneath the large leaves of an almond tree,
even my dreams are green now
breathing in the green of green coconuts –
Nótaí on Ind
i.m. Pearse Hutchinson (1927 -2012)
Sujata Bhatt
A dó ar maidin in Mumbai
agus is glórach fós iad na préacháin.
Tá siad ag dul thart ar na crainn –
na céadta díobh lasmuigh.
Tá préachán marbh agus an chuid eile
ag grágaíl leo, ag grágaíl i gcaitheamh na hoíche
go léir go héirí gréine – níl aon deireadh leis
iad ag glaoch lá i ndiaidh lae.
Ar an mbás a labhraím,
ach is í an bheatha is mian liom a mholadh.
Dá mbeadh ar chumas d’anama taisteal
an mbeifeá liom anseo?
Seachtain ina dhiaidh sin
is glór na Teileagúise gach áit
agus glór ó mhuir eile –
Is glas é mo shuan, fiú, anois
faoi dhuilleoga móra chrann almóinní,
is glas fiú anois mo bhrionglóidí
agus glas na gcnónna cócó glasa á líonadh
