Takarai Kikaku (1661-1707)

 thall is abhus

froganna ag grágaíl san oíche

réaltaí ag lonrú

sprais samhraidh –

bean ina suí léi féin

ag stánadh amach

stopann na snáthaidí móra

dá nguairneán mire –

corrán caol na gealaí

nach álainn í an ré!

scáileanna na ngiúiseanna

ar na mataí

os cionn na mara

bogha síne glanta

ag scata fáinleog

i leaba an Impire

boladh na muiscítí dóite

is na gcogar anghrách

spraoi tintrí –

thoir inné

thiar inniu

a céile ite

ag an gcat, bean an chriogair

ag gol ní foláir

Traein Ardluais

Nílim cinnte, ach ní hé an sráidbhaile san áit iasachta seo

Mo shráidbhailese. Scáthán atá sa spéir, domhan geimhriúil

Á lasadh aige. Gabhann seanóir thar bráid de rúid cois uisce,

Súil á coinneáil aige ar a thréad, an aimsir, an gort cruithneachta

Agus na goirt ríse uisciúla.

Tá damh ag ól. Níl ainm agam

Ar gach ainmhí díobh, faoi mar nach bhfuil ainm agam

Ar na daoine seo go léir ar an traein.

Tá bean ghalánta ag caoineadh, ag síodráil

Faoin bpósadh ar chlis air. Níl a hainm ar eolas agam,

Ach tá sí an-chosúil liom, le mo bhaile dúchais, le mo mhuintir

In áit iasachta mar seo, buailimid le chéile is scaraimid go tapaidh. Féach,

Na huaigheanna sa ghort cruithneachta, na tuamaí nua, na seantuamaí, an-dealraitheach lena chéile.

Ban Ruo

Leagan Béarla le Duck Yard Lyricists,  Meifu Wang, Michael Soper, Peter Micic & Johan Ramaekers.

Rugadh  in Xia'yi na Síne sa bhliain 1973. Is file, úrscéalaí agus gearrscéalaí í.

Gauguin

Ferme à Arles  Gauguin, 1888

is cuimhin liom iad, sea bainimse le haois eile cocaí féir, a stór!         agus a gcumhracht theolaí         b'iad pirimidí m'óige iad

i remember them i am from another age haystacks, beloved!         and i recall their warm scent         those pyramids of my youth

John McDonald - Haiku

hameless  -

nae Yule whigmaleeries

bit the merry dancers

gan dídean -

is gan de mhaisiúcháin Nollag ann

ach na Saighneáin

Yule lichts turnt on  -

yirth yin skinklin

whigmaleerie in space

soilse Nollag ar lasadh

an domhan ina ornáid lonrach

sa spás

licht throuch

the hairst treen

 . . . apenin her keel boax

solas 

trí chrainn an fhómhair

osclaíonn sí an bosca crián

daw sinblink

chirtin watter

frae the freestit leaves

ga gréine na maidine

ag fáscadh uisce

as duilleoga sioctha

virus apairtness  -

new peths

throuch the wuids 

scaradh sóisialta -

cosáin nua

tríd an gcoill 

pandemic  -  the day

e'en the craw

muives twa metres awa 

an phaindéim -

an préachán fiú

bogann dhá mhéadar uaim inniu 

John McDonald, Tea wi the Abbot:  Haiku in Scots (Onslaught Press 2016) with transcreations by Gabriel Rosenstock, £10 (pb).

Metre lay at the heart of Gaelic poetry.  Changes in metrical practice were invariably reflective of changes in the structure of feeling and if the modernist poetry which emerged from the mid-twentieth century onwards was less straitjacketed than its antecedents, it was, at its best, conscious of metrical patterns and utilised them pragmatically.

Gabriel Rosenstock’s introduction of the Japanese haiku as a serious literary form in poetry in Irish marked a turning away from the kind of nativism synonymous with, say, Daniel Corkery in favour of the literary cosmopolitanism   advocated by Corkery’s cultural antagonist, Pádraig de Brún, as articulated in a debate between them in the journal, Humanitas (1930-1).  Irish allowed Rosenstock to go beyond the Anglo-centric provincialism of poetry in English to embrace the culture and poetry of Asia and India as well as the work of poets in a variety of endangered languages. 

The book under review is an instance of the latter, a translation of haiku written in Scots or Lallans, the distinctive form taken by English as it developed in Scotland.  (It is not a dialect and is utterly distinct from Scottish Gaelic.)  While the geographical distance between the Scots language and Irish may not be wide, the cultural chasm is considerable, exacerbated by religious difference and long-established antagonisms between Scots and Gaelic poets.  The greatest twentieth-century practitioner of poetry in the language, Hugh MacDiarmid, was neither anti-Irish, anti-Catholic nor anti-Gaelic, but older perceptions have had a long afterlife.

Far from re-running the religious rivalries of the past, McDonald’s collection, including the title, is, in many of the poems, driven by aspects of Catholic devotion:

throu Mass—

the weet's turnt

tae snaw

i lár an Aifrinn—

d’iompaigh an bháisteach

ina sneachta

The poet’s attitude to the Highlands appears less convinced, however:

hielant veesit—

traikit a’ready

o wattergaws

cuairt ar na garbhchríocha—

bréan den bhogha síne

cheana féin

Succinctness and clarity are renowned features of Scots poetry and these make that language and the haiku into suitable partners.  Rosenstock’s translations or ‘transcreations’, as he prefers to call them, will be of the greatest assistance to Irish readers in gaining an appreciation of McDonald’s achievement.

Proinsias Ó Drisceoil

Léirmheas i Poetry Ireland 121, 2017, pp. 56-61,

In Éagmais mo Ghrása

Ní bhlaisim den chorn fíona gan mo ghrása a bheith thart

Ní beo dom gan mo ghrása a bheith faram

Foighne, a deir siad, agus mo ghrása as láthair

Is fuirist a bheith ag caint, a chara, rud eile is ea gníomh

Ó, a Qutub Shah! Conas gealt a chur ar bhóthar a leasa

Ní ghlacann gealta le comhairle!

Mohammed Quli Qutub Shah

The Beloved's Absence

I cannot sip from the wine-cup in the absence of my Beloved

I cannot draw a breath in the absence of my Beloved

Have patience, they say, when my Beloved isn't around

East to say, my friend, but not easy to practice

O Qutub Shah! How to advise a lunatic

A lunatic cannot take counsel!

Litir nár foilsíodh

Sir,

It was heartening to read Enda Delaney's review (IrishTimes, 23.1.21) of Mícheál Ó hAodha's English translation of Dónall Mac Amhlaigh's book Deoraithe. Parthian Books, a Welsh outfit, are to be congratulated on their initiative. I wonder  why it wasn't snapped up by an Irish publisher? 

We need an inventory of the best literature available in the senior language, books that are worth translating into English, currently a world language. We also need support for our literary translators. No scheme exists, as far as I know, to assist translators and publishers to make Irish-language literature available in English. And yet Literature Ireland/Litríocht Éireann has no problems when it comes to financing such titles as a Catalan translation of The Sea, The Sea (Vintage Classics) by Iris Murdoch. It makes no sense to me.

I'm not going to ask how Irish was Iris (or anybody else) but the truth of the matter is that though born in Dublin she was only a few weeks old when the family moved to London!  Clearly Literature Ireland/ Litríocht Éireann is stretching it a bit with Murdoch, yet they won't stretch far enough to support English-language translations of literary works in Irish. Baffling!

Gabriel Rosenstock

Jean-Joseph-Xavier Bidauld

ealaí thús an lae tá tú feicthe acu d'íomhása á taisceadh acu         nach é an trua é, a chuid         nach leanann daoine a sampla

swans of the morning gliding as though they've seen You - holding Your image         if only it could be so         for mankind too, beloved