Cártaí Poist ó Shean-Goa - Manohar Shetty

1

I gcré na cille atá colainn Naomh Xavier
Ach is úr fós í a shacraimint ar an teanga.
Is urramach an radharc ón Séipéal ar an gCnoc
Ar an gcathair is ar an abhainn
A bhí tráth ar maos le fuil.
 

2

Laistiar de bhallaí an chlochair chlabhstra
Is pléineáilte í aibíd na mban rialta bánghnúiseach.
Gnó ar dalladh ar siúl ag na stallaí faoin gcrann
Bainiain: maighdeana cré, hataí tuí,
Deochanna súilíneacha is coiscíní.
 

3

Faoina chasóg bhán muirníonn sagart
Paidrín, ag machnamh ar Leabhar na nOlagón.
Faoi íomhá chré-umha de Gandhi fógraíonn mangaire
Turasóireachta ionad na n-eiriceach nár dhein aithrí
In am is a dódh le linn na Cúistiúnachta.
 

 4

Titeann scáil Eaglais Naomh Peadar sa Róimh
Ar chruinneachán Eaglais Naomh Cajetan, líníocht
Linbh d’éirí na gréine  an t-oisteansóir.
Faoi leaca uaighe greanta ar an urlár
Tagraíonn íola scriosta do chreideamh eile.

5

Na faichí pioctha néata á dtéamh ag an iarnóin.
Buaileann cloig Ardeaglais Sé na Flaithis
Nó purgadóir; critheann altóra óir
Aithrígh na nglún brúite ag éirí,
Abhlanna caola ag cuimilt dá mbeola.

 

6

Easanálaíonn cillíní na manach móideanna
Geanmnaíochta i bhfothrach Naomh Agaistín.
Gearrann lánúineacha óga na spéaclaí gréine
Fíor na croise orthu féin sula dtiomáintear ar ais iad
Go dtí svuít mhí na meala.   
 

Postcards from Old Goa

1

St Xavier’s body is dust to dust but
His sacrament is still fresh on the tongue.
The Chapel on the Mount commands
A reverent view of a city and river
That once churned with blood.
 

2

Behind the walls of the cloistered convent 
Nuns adopt plain habits; they never blush.
Under a banyan tree stalls do brisk
Business in clay madonnas, straw hats,
Fizzy drinks, and contraceptives.
 

3

The priest in a white cassock fondles
A rosary, lost in the Book of Lamentations.
Under Gandhi’s bronze image the tourist tout
Ordains the spot where heretics repented
Too late in the flames of the Inquisition.
 

4

The shadow of St Peter’s in Rome falls
On the dome of St Cajetan, its monstrance
A child’s drawing of the rising sun.
Below headstones engraved on the floor
Razed idols speak of another faith.
 

5

Afternoons heat up the immaculate lawns.
The bells of Sé Cathedral ring out
Heaven or purgatory; golden altars tremble
As penitents rise on bruised knees,
Wafer-thin hosts brushing their lips.
 

6

The cells of monks breathe out vows
Of chastity in the ruins of St Augustine’s.
Young couples in dark glasses cross
Themselves before they’re driven
Back to their honeymoon suites.