Clay Lipsky

Clay Lipsky	an turasóir deireanach ar domhan... uaigneas
	the last tourist in the world... loneliness
	ο τελευταίος τουρίστας στον κόσμο... μοναξιά Leagan Gréigise: Sarah Thilykou
	旅人や 世界最後で 寂しくて Leagan seapáiníse: mariko sumikura
	de laatste toerist in de wereld... eenzaamheid Leagan Dúitsise: Willem Roggeman
	le dernier touriste au monde... solitude Leagan Fraincise: Daniel Py

Audio Haiku

Episode 1: Lá Aonaigh (Fair Day)

Episode 2: Grian an Tráthnóna (Evening Sun)

Episode 3: Úlla Rácáilte (Stolen Apples)

Episode 4: Cró Na Gcearc (Hen House)

Episode 5: Tobar Beannaithe (Holy Well)

Episode 6: A Leath Ina Thaibhreamh (Half of it a Dream)

Welcome to 575, a pop-up podcast bringing you audio haiku. Volume 1 is being produced twice daily at the Hearsay Sound Arts Festival in Kilfinane, Ireland, April 2019.

Isa Leshko

Isa Leshko
ag dul in aois... níor ghlaoigh an coileach ar maidin	growing old... the rooster forgot to crow this morning
vieillissant... le coq a oublié de chanter ce matin Leagan Fraincise: Daniel Py	μεγαλώνοντας... ξέχασε να λαλήσει πρωί ο πετεινός Leagan Gréigise: Sarah Thilykou

Smaoineamh an Lae

Pé acu Críost, Krishna, Kali nó Allah atá á adhradh agat, is é an Solas céanna amháin atá ionatsa atá á adhradh agat, ós ar fud na bhfud atá sé.

Sri Anandamayi Ma

aois na soineantachta

'bhfuilimid imithe rófhada . . .
Bapuji, an féidir teacht
ar aois na soineantachta?


have we gone too far
Bapuji, can it be found?
the age of innocence

Ar muir is ar tír

muir agus talamh faoina smacht... nach beag atá ar eolas acu	rulers of land and sea... how precious little they know
	κύριοι της γης και της θάλασσας... ελάχιστα γνωρίζουν Leagan Gréigise: Sarah Thilykou

Briathra an Bhúda

Attā hi attano nātho;
ko hi nātho paro siyā?
Attanā hi sudantena,
nāthaṃ labhati dullabhaṃ.

Éist leis an mbun-Pháilis:
http://host.pariyatti.org/dwob/dhammapada_12_160.mp3

Tú féin a dhéanann cosaint ort féin;
cé eile a bheadh ina chosantóir agat?
Nuair atá lánsmacht agat ort féin
sin is máistreacht ann - deacair a bhaint amach.

Haiku le Issa ón mbliain 1811

Cad a tharla in Éirinn sa bhliain 1811? Cailleadh Gael cumasach, Edward Lysaght, faoina ndúradh, 

'Lysaght lived for little beyond poetry, pistols, wine and women; and the sermons and soda-water of the day after seem to have had small effects in mending his ways...'

Thall sa tSeapáin, chum Issa an haiku seo:
 

an leanbh ar an gcíoch...
ba mhaith leis blátha silíní
a ithe

.懐の子が喰たがる桜哉

futokoro no ko ga kuitagaru sakura kana

Graifítí an Lae

Dul chun cinn, níl ann ach leithleachas.
Dul chun cinn, níl ann ach gadaíocht.
Dul chun cinn, níl ann ach sclábhaíocht.
Dul chun cinn, níl ann ach dúnmharú.
Dul chun cinn, níl ann ach cinedhíothú.
Dul chun cinn, níl ann ach díothú na timpeallachta.
Dul chun cinn, níl ann ach sochapatachas.

Derrick Jensen

https://orgrad.wordpress.com/a-z-of-thinkers/derrick-jensen/

Basho

stadann clog an teampaill  . . .
an glór ag teacht as na blátha
i gcónaí

Padraic Colum

Seanbhean na mBóithre

An Old Woman of the Roads le Padraic Colum, traschruthaithe i nGaeilge.

Ó, DÁ mbeadh agamsa tighín,
Idir stóilín is tinteán!
Fóidíní móna ar an tine
In aghaidh an bhalla cruach amháin.

Clog le slabhraí is meáchain ann
An luascadán soir is siar!
Drisiúr lán de mhiasa glé
Breac bán is gorm is ar mo mhian!

Gnóthach a bheinn ar feadh an lae
Ag glanadh an urláir is an tinteán
Is ag socrú ar an tseilf arís
Na miasa gorma – breac is bán!

Bheinn ar mo shuaimhneas ann istoí’
Mé cois na tine, dom ghoradh féin
Gan deifir orm dul a luí
An clog a fhágaint is na miasa glé!

Och! Tuirsíonn an ceo is an dorchadas mé
Is na bóithre fada gan tigh ná sceach,
Tuirsíonn an bóthar mé is an sliabh
Feadaíl na gaoithe is an tost – mo chreach!


Is bím ag guí gach lá chun Dé
Is ag guí a bhím istoíche:
Go dtuga Sé tighín deas dom féin
I bhfad ó bhéal tais na gaoithe.

An Old Woman of the Roads

O, TO have a little house!
To own the hearth and stool and all!
The heaped up sods upon the fire,
The pile of turf against the wall!
To have a clock with weights and chains

And pendulum swinging up and down!
A dresser filled with shining delph,
Speckled and white and blue and brown!

I could be busy all the day
Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor,

And fixing on their shelf again
My white and blue and speckled store!
I could be quiet there at night
Beside the fire and by myself,
Sure of a bed and loth to leave

The ticking clock and the shining delph!
Och! but I'm weary of mist and dark,
And roads where there's never a house nor bush,
And tired I am of bog and road,
And the crying wind and the lonesome hush!

And I am praying to God on high,
And I am praying Him night and day,
For a little house—a house of my own—
Out of the wind's and the rain's way.

Préacháin

Crows, dán mistéireach le Padraic Colum, traschruthaithe i nGaeilge.

ANSIN, go tobann, thuigeas i gceart
An méid a bhí ráite aige, is dheineas mo mhachnamh air:
Go n-eitlíonn na préacháin leo go minic istoíche
Ag éirí de mhullach na gcrann i nDroim Bairr,
Is as go brách leo: shamhlaíos an méid a insíodh dom.

Na préacháin a chroitheann taise na hoíche dá sciatháin
Ar na clocha thall ansin sna goirt,
Na chéad nithe beo is léir dúinn ar maidin;
Ag máirseáil trasna na ngort, iad ina suí
Ar ghéaga na bhfuinseog, ag eitilt abhaile
Is mullach na leamhán dubh leo thall i nDroim Bairr;
Na préacháin a mbreathnaímid orthu de shíor faoi sholas an lae,
Ag borradh atáid, toirtiúil, is ag bogadh,
Tá saol eile ar fad ag na neacha dubha seo.

Préacháin ag eitilt sa dorchadas,
Duibhe ar eite san oíche; neacha nach bhfeiceann
Ach an tsúil sin atá ina gceann siúd –
Súil an treaspásóra!

Is tusa, a sheanóir na súl gasta géar,
A labhair liom faoi na préacháin, a athair altrama;
Is tusa, a sheanbhean, ar luíos id’ bhaclainnse
Nuair a tógadh mé ó bhaclainn mo mháthar;
Is tusa, a ghirseach, is snua ort
Ód’ shinsir romhat, a ghaolta liom tá saol eile agaibhse
Tá sé feicthe agam, im’ threaspásóir dom –
Duibhe ar eite san oíche mar phréacháin!

Crows

THEN, suddenly, I was aware indeed
Of what he said, and was revolving it:
How, in the night, crows often take to wing,
Rising from off the tree-tops in Drumbarr,
And flying on: I pictured what he told.

The crows that shake the night-damp off their wings
Upon the stones out yonder in the fields,
The first live things that we see in the mornings;
The crows that march across the fields, that sit
Upon the ash-trees' branches, that fly home
And crowd the elm-tops over in Drumbarr;
The crows we look on at all hours of light,
Growing, and full, and going these black beings have
Another lifetime!

Crows flying in the dark
Blackness in darkness flying; beings unseen
Except by eyes that are like to their own
Trespassers' eyes!

And you, old man, with eyes so quick and sharp,
Who've told me of the crows, my fosterer;
And you, old woman, upon whose lap I've lain
When I was taken from my mother's lap;
And you, young girl, with looks that have come down
From forefathers, my kin ye have another life
I've glimpsed it, I becoming trespasser-
Blackness in darkness flying like the crows!

Bapu-ji!

where is it now the world you saw… Bapu-ji!
an domhan ba léir duit tráth cá bhfuil sé anois… Bapu-ji!	πού είναι τώρα ο κόσμος που είδες… Μπάπου! Leagan Gréigise: Sarah Thilykou

Litir chuig Hitler

Wardha… géim bó i gcéin	Wardha… the distant lowing of a cow
	Γουάρντα… το μακρινό μούγκρισμα μιας αγελάδας Leagan Gréigise: Sarah Thilykou

An áit a rugadh Gandhi

An áit a rugadh Gandhi	did you cry when you were born… did you cry for India
	ar chaoin tú nuair a rugadh thú… ar chaoin tú ar son na hIndia
	έκλαψες όταν γεννιόσουν… έκλαψες για την Ινδία Leagan Gréigise: Sarah Thilykou

All our fathers

	Bapu-ji! ár n-aithreacha… an gcailltear in aon chor iad
	Bapu-ji! our fathers … do they ever die
	Μπάπου! οι πατέρες μας… πεθαίνουν ποτέ Leagan Gréigise: Sarah Thilykou

Grand National Hotel

Grand National Hotel
Grand National Hotel… cosc ar chaifir	Grand National Hotel… no kaffirs allowed
	Γκραντ Νέισιοναλ Χοτέλ… μαύροι καθόλου δεν μπαίνουν μέσα Leagan Gréigise: Sarah Thilykou

Haiku agus Gealtacht

Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj

Ná bí ag brath ar an aigne chun saoirse a bhaint amach. 

An aigne a chuir i ndaoirse thú.
Gabh lasmuigh di go huile is go hiomlán.

Soseki

Bí ag faire
ar an mbreith is ar an mbás…
bláth na loiteoige - féach!


Δες γέννα και θάνατο:
άνοιξε ήδη
τ΄άνθος του λωτού

Sarah Thilykou a dhein an leagan Gréigise
 

Níos doimhne ná an mhuir

is doimhne é ná an mhuir… an guth istigh	deeper than the sea it is… the inner voice
	βαθύτερη απ' τη θάλασσα είναι… η μέσα φωνή Leagan Gréigise: Sarah Thilykou

William Mortensen

William Mortensen	tuilleadh néalta dubha . . . gach lá gan teip céastar an Briathar
	more dark clouds. . . each and every day the Word is crucified
	encore plus de nuages noirs chaque jour le Mot est crucifié Leagan Fraincise: Daniel Py
	暗雲や 連日連夜 ことばが十字架に Leagan seapáiníse: mariko sumikura