Feartlaoi

Níor shéan sé pléisiúr de phléisiúir uile an domhain;
File agus súmaire.

Déanaimis gairdeas! arsa na foilsitheoirí. Tá an boc marbh.
Ní fheicfimid a thuilleadh san oifig é go bagrach,
Gléasta i gcomhair ócáide, dleachta á n-éileamh aige:
An t-airgead, a chunúis, nó cuirfidh mé an áit trí thine.

Mar sin leagadh ar an mbreocharn é – file, fear achrainn,
ainniseoir.

Shakti Chattopadhyay

An Duilleog Dheireanach

 
Cad atá
       Ag an duilleog dheireanach
       Le bheith ag maíomh as?
 
       Bhuel –
       Samhlaigh
       Seangán beag
       Ar fán leis féin
       Faoin gcrann.
       Samhlaigh
       Go dtugann sí scáth don seangán
       Ón ngrian loiscneach
       Is í ag luascadh go fiáin sa ghaoth.
       Is cuma
       Má shracann an ghaoth
       Ón gcrann í.
 
       Nár mhéanar dá dtitfeadh sí ar an seangán beag
       Go séimh
       Ar nós scáth fearthainne mór glas
       Is fanacht
       Le miongháire mioscaiseach
       Go dtiocfadh máthair an tseangáin
       Is í ag tabhairt amach
       Gur ceileadh a páiste uirthi –
 
       Cad eile a theastódh ó dhuilleog?

       Veerankutty

Kyoshi Takahama

 

 

 

 

 

i mo sheasamh dom
faoin gcrann giúise seo
is braon drúchta mé

Bás sagairt

An Caitliceach nach réabhlóidí é, múchta i bpeaca marfach atá sé.

An tAthair Camilo Torres Restrepo (1929 - 1966)

Bhíos fós ar scoil
nuair a d'fheallmharaigh
fórsaí an rialtais thú

Bhí 50 bliain ó tharla 1916 á cheiliúradh againn.
(mar dhea!)

Cén fáth nár fógraíodh do bhás ón bpuilpid
cén fáth nach raibh lá oifigiúil dobróin againn?

Bheinnse tar éis deora a shileadh i do dhiaidh
cinnte!
Bheinn tar éis tú a chaoineadh go géar goirt, a Athair
cén fáth nach ndúradh linn gur feallmharaíodh thú?

Nó an mbeinn tar éis a rá liom féin
nach scannalach an ní é go mbeadh sagart
ina throdaí Marxach -
ar leac na bpian atá sé siúd anois, chomh cinnte le hIfreann!

Death of a Priest

A Catholic who is not a revolutionary is steeped in mortal sin.

Fr. Camilo Torres Restrepo (1929 - 1966)

I was still at school
when government forces
assassinated you

We were celebrating the 50th anniversary of the 1916 Rising
(yeah, sure  . . .)

Why was your death not announced from the pulpit
why was there not an official day of mourning?

I would have shed tears for you
be sure of it!
I would have wept bitterly for you, Father
why were we not told of your assassination?

Or would I have said to myself
what a scandal! A Marxist fighter - and he a priest . . .
he's suffering for it now - as sure as Hell!
...

Is Mise É Sin

Níl scrupall agam maidir le hathrú ná eagla roimh bhás,

Níor saolaíodh riamh mé,

Ní raibh tuismitheoirí riamh agam.

Is mé an Bheithsine Iomlán, Eolas Iomlán, Ríméad Iomlán.

Is mise É Sin, is mise É Sin.

 

Ní mé is cúis le dearóile ar bith, is nílimse dearóil,

Níl namhaid ar bith agam is ní namhaid mé.

Is mé an Bheithsine Iomlán, Eolas Iomlán, Ríméad Iomlán.

Is mise É Sin, is mise É Sin.

 

Táimse gan fhoirm, gan teorainn,

Lastall de spás agus am,

Táimse i ngach rud, gach rud ionamsa

Is mé ríméad na cruinne,

Táim gach áit.

Is mé an Bheithsine Iomlán, Eolas Iomlán, Ríméad Iomlán.

Is mise É Sin, is mise É Sin.

Táim gan cholainn, gan athrú ar an gcolainn

Ní mé na céadfaí ná a n-ábhar san

Is mé an Bheithsine Iomlán, Eolas Iomlán, Ríméad Iomlán.

Is mise É Sin, is mise É Sin.

 

Ní peaca mé ná suáilce

Ná teampall ná adhradh

Ná oilithreacht ná leabhair

Is mé an Bheithsine Iomlán, Eolas Iomlán, Ríméad Iomlán.

Is mise É Sin, is mise É Sin.

Swami Rama Thirtha

Gearg

Madonna della Quaglia (mionghné)
Pisanello.
Grianghraif: Paolo Villa - Own work, CC BY 4.0,

b’fhéidir go bhfuil ubh

aici do Mhuire  . . .

an ghearg

Tanka

The third preview on YouTube of Boatman! take these songs from me,

 a bilingual tanka sequence, comes with an appreciation from poet-critic Waqas Khwaja.

Text: Gabriel Rosenstock. Artwork and Film: Masood Hussain

It only gets better and better! A poet at the height of his powers, and an artist in complete command of his medium, his imagination on fire—what happens when they come together in electrifying collaboration? Of stray pieces and objects is great art made, and poetry, but the unreflecting ordinary eye would not know it until the metamorphic creative imagination reorders the vision, rearranges words, images, and objects for us. Masood Hussain’s movingly wrought reliefs, in heart-rending earth colors of impassioned blues, metallic greens, ochres, rust, and stanched crimson, and Gabriel Rosenstock’s chiseled latticework of sublime tanka, melodic and polyphonic at the same time in conversation with each other, are steeped in sorrow, yet improbably uplifting in an aesthetic experience crafted and shaped out of life’s wilderness of travails and tragedies gratuitously inflicted on a people caught in an ancient struggle for self-liberation and self-realization. The Irish and the Kashmiri, inextricably bonded and blended in their toils, their pains, their struggles and longings, in their creative gusto, transport the reader to the domain of the mystical sublime. Boatman! take these songs from me captures the imagination as only great art can, to leave an enthralling, lasting impact.

Waqas Khwaja