Haiku le Issa ón mbliain 1813

Cad a bhí ag titim amach in Éirinn sa bhliain 1813?

• Troideadh Cath Gharbhachaidh.

Canann Dílseoirí amhrán páistiúil mar gheall air i gcónaí:

• Phéinteáil Joseph Peacock an pictiúr cáiliúil seo: lá pátrúin i nGleann Dá Loch.
   
  
• Rugadh Benjamin Lett, buamadóir, crá croí na mBriotanach! 
• Rugadh Isaac Butt:
  
  
  
  John Butler Yeats a dhein an phortráid seo den Bhuttach.
  
  Idir an dá linn, thall sa tSeapáin, chum Issa an haiku seo a leanas:
  
  m'aird go hiomlán
  anois air...
  contráth fómhair
  
  
  .今に成つて念入て見る秋の暮
  ima ni natte nen irite miru aki no kure

Marcel Duchamp

Marcel Duchamp
d'fhág an gadaí ina dhiaidh é... cac sa bhabhla leithris	the thief left it behind... a turd in the toilet bowl
le voleur l'a laissée... une merde dans la cuvette des toilettes Leagan Fraincise: Daniel Py	盗人や 厠に鋸 置き忘れ Leagan Seapáinise: Mariko Sumikura

Cúlra: http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/blog/2011-05-27/ryokan-the-thief-left-it-behind/

Briathra an Bhúda

Ayasāva malaṃ samuṭṭhitaṃ
tatuṭṭhāya tameva khādati,
evaṃ atidhonacārinaṃ
sāni kammāni nayanti duggatiṃ.
                  
Éist leis an mbun-Pháilis:
http://host.pariyatti.org/dwob/dhammapada_18_240.mp3
 
Meirg ar iarann
creimeann sí an bonn as a n-éiríonn sí
sa tslí chéanna filleann an feall
ar an bhfeallaire

Custura Dragos

Custura Dragos
cé hí féin níl aithne agam uirthi... mo chéile amach anseo	who is she i have no knowledge of her... my future wife
そは誰ぞ 知らぬ女なり 後の吾妹 Leagan Seapáinise: Mariko Sumikura	ποια είναι αυτή δεν την γνωρίζω... μέλλουσα σύζυγός μου Leagan Gréigise: Sarah Thilykou

DÍREACH LE RÁ

DÍREACH LE RÁ

         
Gur itheas
na plumaí
a bhí
sa chuisneoir

is a bhí
á gcoinneáil agat
is dócha
chun bricfeasta

Maith dhom é
bhíodar an-bhlasta
breá milis
agus fuar

William Carlos Williams

THIS IS JUST TO SAY

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

William Carlos Williams

Éist leis an bhfile agus an dán á aithris aige

Lech Szeglowski

bláth an chrainn silíní -
idir mé agus Dia
atá sé

płatek wiśni –
pomiędzy
mną a Bogiem

Lech Szeglowski

The Sacred In Contemporary Haiku  2014

Brian Mendonca

http://ashvamegh.net/author-poet-interviews/brian-mendonca/

                

Margadh Mapusa

Agus bhraitheas uaim sibh
a aintín is a uncail
ag margadh Mapusa,
i measc na sillí
an gud, na tamaraine
is an fhínéagair.
Bhur nguth ag cogarnaíl
thar mo ghualainn
is mé ag tuisliú romham
gan tearmann.

Bhí tú lag
Nuair a bhuail ailse thú
Leag an chemo amach thú,
An mhaoile ina finné ar do phian.
Braithim uaim do mheangadh gáire grámhar
Do ghothaí fáilte
An tslí a ndéarfá, ‘Let it be!’
Nuair a théadh baba ag pramsáil timpeall an tí.
Bhí a fhios agat, seans, gur ag dul in olcas a bhí sí,
a uncail, is ar do bhealach meidhreach féin
bhís foighneach ach guagach ar a shon san.

Nuair a d’iarr d’aon iníon ort teacht go Mumbai
in ísle brí a bhís
gus tuairim agat nach mbeifeá ar ais.
Tusa 87 agus aintín 86
cad eile a bhronnfadh an saol ort?
Jab maith le L agus T
post oifigigh ag Mantralaya
An bheirt agaibh ag obair
agus in bhur gcónaí i Mumbai.
Ní raibh i nGoa ach eadarlúid
do bhlianta an Fhómhair.

Bhí mórtas ort nuair a thaispeáin tú na cártaí gnó
a bhí ag do thriúr mac
in Borivili, san Astráil agus sa Nua-Shéalainn –
cheapfá gur sa seomra suite a bhíodar.
Tráth i gcliabhán –
cliabháin dá gcuid féin anois acu.
Ní féidir a bheith ag súil le lá
a chaitheamh libh níos mó
Nuair a thiomáinimid isteach ó Vasco
chun leoithní Corjuem a bhlaiseadh
Inár suí ar na céimeanna i dtreo na habhann
áit a luíonn trucailí ó Assnora gan chorraí.
Mhair sibh idir Mumbai agus Mapusa
ar nós na ndroichead stagcháblaí Worli agus Aldona.

Thug mamó is daideo
aire dóibh féin
i seantigh Goach
agus cuimhní ar fud na háite.
Ina luí anois i reilig
In Kandivili i bhfad uainn.
Níor fógraíodh do bhás sna nuachtáin áitiúla
Mar ómós deireanach do shaol gan cháim.
Thaitin mo chuid aistí leat.
Phléimis Krishnamurti eadrainn féin
Tá an halla an-chiúin anois.
Ag fanacht go ndíolfaí é.

Mar sin tógtar as mo radharc na bananaí Moira
cuirtear i leataobh na scuaba nua
cuir i bhfolach an bláth cumhra mogra.
Rapáil na rópaí sin do na goirt.
Níl éisc ghoirt ag teastáil níos mó sa tigh seo.
Fanadh na hispíní le haghaidh lá níos faide anonn.
Féachann na bumalónna as alt.
Agus diúltaím don phicil tendli.
Tá folús ionam inniu
tá ár sinsir imithe chun suain.
Cuid de Ghoa ar lár.
An margadh ag caoineadh.

 Brian Mendonca

(Margadh Mapusa, Goa, 17 Samhain 2015)

 

Mapusa Market

And I missed you
aunty and uncle
in the Mapusa market,
amid the chillies
the gud, the tamarind
and the vinegar.
Your voice
whispering over my shoulder
as I stumbled onward
sans refuge.


Cancer claimed you
when you were feeble
flattened by chemo,
baldness, a witness to your pain.
I miss your loving smile
Your gestures of welcome
The way you used to say 'Let it be!'
When baba used to romp around your house.
You perhaps knew she was sinking, uncle
In your whimsical way you remained
stoic yet unstable.

When you left, ailing for Mumbai
at your only daughter's call
You perhaps knew you would not return.
You 87 and aunty 86
What more could life offer you?
A good job in L and T
an officer's post at Mantralaya
You both lived
and worked in Mumbai.
Goa seemed an interlude
for the Fall years.

You used to proudly show me the visiting cards
of your sons
-- in Borivili, Australia and New Zealand--
as though they were sitting in your living room.
Once you had cradled them
Now they have cradles of their own.

So now we cannot look forward
to spending the day with you
when we drive in from Vasco
to taste the breezes of Corjuem
sitting on the steps towards the river
where the trucks from Assnora lie unmoving.
Your lives bridged Mumbai and Mapusa
Like the cable-stayed bridges of Worli and Aldona.


Grandfather and grandmother
fended for life alone
in an old Goan house
sprawling with memories.
Now interred in a cemetery
in far away Kandivili.
No local papers announced your death
as a last salute to an exemplary life.
You were a fan of my articles.
We used to discuss Krishnamurti

Now the hall is silent

Waiting to be sold.                                          

So take away the Moira bananas
Put away the new brooms
Hide the fragrant mogra flower.
Wrap those ropes for the fields.
No more salt fish are needed for this house.
The sausages can wait for another day.
The Bombay ducks seem out of joint
and I'll say no to the tendli pickle.
There is a void in my being today
our ancestors have gone to their rest.
a piece of Goa has died.
The market is in mourning.

 Brian Mendonca

(Mapusa Market, Goa, 17 November 2015)