Bilingual ekphrastic tanka – poems of love, longing and emptiness – in response to artwork by various hands.
In Irish and English
The artwork in this book is understood by the author to come under the category of Fair Use, that is to say, a) the images are widely available on the internet, and b) the images are not used in this free e-book for commercial gain.
A bouquet of tanka poems in strict syllabic configuration of 5-7-5-7-7.
About Gabriel Rosenstock
Gabriel Rosenstock is a bilingual poet, tankaist, haikuist, novelist, playwright, short storywriter, essayist and translator. He lives in Ireland.
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BROKEN ANGELS
Aingil Bhriste
Gabriel Rosenstock
© Copyright tanka in Irish and English: Gabriel Rosenstock 2021
Bilingual ekphrastic tanka – poems of love, longing and
emptiness – in response to artwork by various hands.
In Irish and English
The artwork in this book is understood by the author to come
under the category of Fair Use, that is to say, a) the images are
widely available on the internet, and b) the images are not used
in this free e-book for commercial gain.
A bouquet of tanka poems
in strict syllabic configuration of 5-7-5-7-7.
BROKEN ANGELS
Aingil Bhriste
Gabriel Rosenstock is a bilingual poet, tankaist,
novelist, haikuist, short story writer, playwright,
essayist and translator.
Blog | Books | Website
Published in association with:
Cross-Cultural Communications
239 Wynsum Avenue Merrick, NY 11566-4725/USA
Tel: 516/868-5635 Fax: 516/379-1901
Email: cccpoetry@aol.com
5
Acknowledgements
(Artwork: Public Domain, Wikimedia
Commons and Fair Use)
A few of these tanka first appeared in Feasta
(Ireland), Café Dissensus (India) and Modern
Literature (India).
Gabhann an t-údar buíochas leis an
gComhairle Ealaíon a thug Sparánacht dó
chun luí isteach ar an tanka Gaeilge.
The author gratefully acknowledges receipt of
an Arts Council Bursary which has enabled
him to continue with his experiments in Irish-
language tanka.
Artists
Cover: Piet Mondrian
Otto Eckmann
Fernand Combes
Otto Müller
Giuseppe Arcimboldo
Serge Sudeikin
Hans Baldung
Katsushika Hokusai
Artur Bordalo
Suzanne Valadon
T. Kosztka Csontváry
Kit Williams
Martin Schongauer
J.J.X. Bidauld
Anita Malfatti
J.Baptiste Vanmour
Vincent van Gogh
J.R. de Torres
Michelangelo
Walter Osborne
Ludovic Allaume
Ludwig Knaus
John Singer Sargent
H.A. Brendekilde
Ferdinand Hodler
Henry Scott Tuke
C. Sprague Pearce
ADW
Winslow Homer
Hugo Simberg
Walter Gramatté
Edvard Munch
Eugène Burnand
Max Liebermann
Albin Egger-Lienz
Benjamin West
C.D. Friedrich
Pieter Bruegel
Auguste Rodin
Sarah Purser
Paul Gauguin
Richard Friese
Karl Lessing
7
Roderic O’Connor
Henri Rousseau
Hieronymous Bosch
Jan Mankes
Paul Nash
Carl Larrson
Vermeer
Chaïm Soutine
Paritosh Sen
Otto Eckmann
9
I
bhfuil an chorr oíche
in ann í féin a fheiscint
mura bhfeicfinn thú
conas a chífinn mé féin
grág na nduan sa doircheacht
can the night heron
see itself in the water
if i can’t see You
how then can i see my Self
poems croaking in the darkness
Fernand Combes
11
II
folamh i d’éagmais
gach sráid agus gach bóthar
chuile chaochbhealach
liath gach sráid is bóthar
liath chuile chaochbhealach
empty, without You,
every street and every road
every blind alley
grey every street every road
every blind alley is grey
Otto Mueller
13
III
deir an crann gabhlach
gabh an tslí seo, an tslí sin
fanfad faoina scáth
ní thuigeann sé thú, a chuid
ní thuigeann d’uileláithreacht
the forked tree tells me
go this way and go that way
i’ll stay in its shade
it does not understand You
Your very omnipresence
Giuseppe Arcimboldo
15
IV
Aonghus fáin, ambaist
is a cheann bocht trí thine
mo dhála féin mhuis’
tuleáil an mhonsúin, a ghrá
lasracha chun na díleann
wandering Aonghus
he had a fire in his head
i too am ablaze
monsoon rains pour down on me
flames rise up to meet the flood
Serge Sudeikin
17
V
an ré ’na finné
agus is leor sin domsa
dá n-imeofá uaim
d’iompóinnse chuicisin
a nochtann a háilleacht dom
the moon’s my witness
and that is enough for me
if You should leave me
i ’d turn to her, Belovèd
she who unveils her beauty
Hans Baldung
19
VI
táim faoi dhraíocht dar leo
tá tú feicthe acu ar scuab
ceisteoidh siad mé
dófar ag an stáca mé
(bhíos cheana i mo luaithreach)
they claim i’m bewitched
they have seen You ride a broom
i’m to be questioned
and later burned at the stake
(i’m no stranger to ashes)
Katsushika Hokusai
21
VII
tá sé feicthe agam
is nead seangán é Fuji
ná géill d’aon duine
níl aon ní mar fhéachann sé
is tá leath an domhain faoi cheilt
i have seen Fuji
Belovèd, a mere anthill
believe nobody
nothing is quite what it is
most of what’s real is unseen
Yuwana
23
XIII
bíonn an t-ioguána
is é ag suirí, a chuid
ag bobáil a chinn
bhaineas triail as an gcleas sin
tá mo cheann ag titim díom
when it goes courting
it does lots of head bobbing
the iguana
Belovèd, i have tried it
now my head is falling off
Suzanne Valadon
25
IX
chomh ciúin le cat
nó níos ciúine fós, a shearc
bhfuil slí eile ann
gan m’anáil a tharraingt fiú
nó chaillfinn thú is cinnte
as still as a cat
or quieter still, Belovèd
there’s no other way
i mustn’t breathe – mustn’t blink
or surely i will miss You
Tivadar Kosztka Csontvary
27
X
‘cá bhfuil sí,’ ar sé
(thugas mo dhánta don saoi)
‘ní fheicimse í!’
ní saoi thusa ar chor ar bith
níor leagadh súil riamh uirthi
‘where is She,’ he asked
(i’d given a sage my book)
‘i cannot see Her!’
you are not a sage, said i
or you’d know She can’t be seen
Martin Schongauer
29
XI
is neach fiáin mé
thugas mo chúl leis an domhan
maide is sciath agam
ar fán anois leis an ngaoth
scairtim d’ainm leis an spéir
i am a wild man
i’ve forsaken society
with club and with shield
i wander where the wind blows
roar Your name to the heavens
Jean-Joseph-Xavier Bidauld
31
XII
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, Belovèd
Kit Williams
33
XIII
scaoileadh leat ab ea
ní bheadh ciall ar bith leis sin
scaoileadh liom Féinig?
fáinleoga ag bailiú leo
ach cá raghainnse, a stóirín ó
should i let You go
no, that makes no sense at all
let go of my Self?
swallows fly to Africa
ah, but where have i to go
Anita Malfatti
35
XIV
amhrán cam é seo
i dtigh cam a cumadh é
gar do chonair cham
bíodh an rud díreach ag cách
táimse cam, a stóirín ó
here’s a crooked song
written in a crooked house
near a crooked path
let the world have its straight songs
Belovèd, i am deviant
Jean Baptiste Vanmour
37
XV
file, deirbhíseach
Yunus Emre: lá amháin
cad a tharla dhó
leáigh sé ann féin, a thaisce
mar ór a ndéanfaí leacht de
poet and dervish
Yunus Emre saw himself
as clear as daylight
he melted into himself
like flowing gold, Belovèd
Vincent Van Gogh
39
XVI
tar éis mheán oíche
níl aon ní eile le rá
i m’aonar atáim
táthar ag ól apsainte
chun rud éigin a dhearúd
it ’s after midnight
there is nothing more to say
i am all alone
everyone’s drinking absinthe
what are we trying to forget
Julio Romero de Torres
41
XVII
canann an domhan duit
lasmuigh de na dánta seo
amhrán glas ón gcrann
ón scairdeán amhrán spleodrach
an chéad ghiolcadh ón ngearrcach
all things chant for You
not just these poems, Belovèd
trees chant leafy songs
fountains their bubbly songs
the nestling’s first chirp is You
Michelangelo
43
XVIII
diabhail deamhain agus jinn
deacair a gcumhacht a shéanadh
gan éifeacht bíd
nuair a luaimse d’ainm
teitheann siad go maolchluasach
devils demons jinn
it’s hard to deny their power
but what can they do
Belovèd, i say Your name
and they scatter sheepishly
Mayfield Map Mosaic
45
XIX
nach mbeadh fhios agat
chuir na mapaí ar strae mé
ní mór dom dul siar
comhcheilg an domhain i m’aghaidh
a chuisle, domhan seo na mbréag
wouldn’t you know it
the maps have led me astray
i’ll retrace my steps
the world conspires against me
Belovèd, this world of lies
Walter Osborne
47
XX
Bleá Cliath, a thaisce
roimh aimsir na réabhlóide
is cuma shéimh air
ach tá rud éigin san aer
is fós in éamh na bhfaoileán
Dublin, Belovèd
before the revolution
and all seems peaceful
but there’s something in the air
it pierces the seagull ’s cry
Saint-Germain Vitrail
49
XXI
feictear thú gach lá
nó feictear uair amháin thú
nó ní fheictear thú
feictear thú i do Mhaighdean
nó tagann siad ort i ndán
some see You daily
others once in a lifetime
some never see You
some find You in the Virgin
others know You in a poem
Ludwig Knaus
51
XXII
an bandia thú
bandia na síochána
ní chreideann éinne
i mbandéithe ná sa tsíth
táimid damnaithe, a chuid
are You a goddess
the goddess of peace, perhaps
who believes in You?
no one believes any more
we are all damned, Belovèd
John Singer Sargent
53
XXIII
tá tú feicthe acu
do leagan siúil, a thaisce
tá tú cloiste acu
ní bhfuaireadar ach spléachadh ort
nochtann tú is téann as amharc
some swear they’ve seen You
others swear they have heard You
some describe Your walk
at most they have had a glimpse
You appear and disappear
Hans Andersen Brendekilde
55
XXIV
sea, tuigeann sé mé
an Giúdach Fáin, a thaisce
tuigimse eisean
táimid ar fad ar deoraíocht
is faobhar rásúir é an ród
he understands me
Belovèd, the Wandering Jew
i understand him
are we not all in exile
this road is a razor’s edge
Ferdinand Hodler
57
XXV
im’ dheisitheoir lín
gafa le hamhráin bhriste
cá dtosóm, a chuid
deisitheoir amhrán, gan tiúin
can dom os íseal, a stór
a netmender i
enmeshed in these broken songs
where does one begin
songmender – i ’ve lost the tune
Belovèd, hum it softly
Henry Scott Tuke
59
XXVI
dheineas cur síos ort
do sheanmhairnéalach lá
lean ort, ar seisean
bhí gach aon rud feicthe aige
níor theastaigh uaidh go stopfainn
i once described You
to a wistful old seadog
he had seen it all
go on, he said, continue
he didn’t want me to stop
Charles Sprague Pearce
61
XXVII
tine a mhúnlaigh
agus a d’athchum an tseoid
an tine atá beo
tine thús an domhain, a stór
is tine éag na cruinne
fire that shaped the jewel
fire of its refashioning
fire that is alive
fire of the earth’s beginning
fire that will consume the world
Waterford Walls
63
XXVIII
misteach is file
i ngan fhios don scuad lámhaigh
cad a mhúintear dóibh,
saighdiúirí na Breataine
an múintear rún-éigse dhóibh
he was a mystic
did the firing squad know that
what do they teach them
British soldiers, Belovèd
are they taught hermetic poems
Winslow Homer
65
XXIX
roinnimse an dúil
atá ionainn, síol Éabha,
i ngairdín an tséin
is dílleachtaí sinn, a chuid
dílleachtaí dalla gan léas
i share the longing
of everyone born of Eve
for the celestial garden
we are orphans, Belovèd
blind orphans starved of the light
Hugo Simberg
67
XXX
lig dom canadh leis
do na haingil ‘tá leonta
balbh ag dobrón
is líonmhar iad, a thaisce
ealaí na sciathán gan feidhm
and let me sing too
for all the wounded angels
struck dumb by sorrow
Belovèd, they are legion
swans whose wings have let them down
Street art in Portugal
69
XXXI
níl gunnán agam
níl ná tarbh-bhrocaire
cad tá i ndán dom
shíleas go mairfinn ar ghrá
mé i m’fhinné creachta air sin
i ’ve neither a gun
nor a pit bull terrier
how will i survive
once i thought i ’d live on love
i ’ve the scars to remind me
Walter Gramatté
71
XXXII
bhí fear ann fadó
ní raibh aithne ag éinne air
bhí croí na bó ann
croí mór a bhí róthrom dó
is b’éigean dó é ’thabhairt uaidh
there once was a man
no one knew the half of him
a man with a heart
it was too heavy for him
and so he gave it away
Edvard Munch
73
XXXIII
imní, a chuisle
imní an domhain chéasta seo
ag dul in olcas
tá do sholas uainn go géar
tarrtháil le do niamhracht sinn
Belovèd, the angst
the ever-increasing angst
of our tortured world
where is Your light when needed
rescue us with Your radiance
Eugène Burnand
75
XXXIV
gan tú a fheiscint
delirium tremens, sea
gan do ghuth a chlos
gan aithne a chur ort
gan grá a thabhairt duit – ifreann
not to see You now
is delirium tremens
not to hear Your voice
not to know You – hell itself
not to love You – damnation
Getsemani Street Art
77
XXXV
anocht, a ghrá geal
anocht in Cartagena
beidh oscailt súl ann
seans go gcloisfear mallacht uaidh –
Gabriel García Márquez
let’s meet, my Treasure
tonight in Cartagena
our eyes will open
we might hear him cursing still –
Gabriel García Márquez
Max Liebermann
79
XXXVI
tá an máinlia réidh
d’iarras air mo chroí a bhaint
caithfidh mé uaim é
ruainne chun na Bóinne glé
an fuílleach sa Yamuna
the surgeon’s ready
remove my heart, i ’ve told him
to be cast away
a piece for the river Boyne
what’s left for the Yamuna
Albin Egger-Lienz
81
XXXVII
caitheadh amach iad
umair uisce choisricthe
níl gá leo, a chuid
thug Mamón a bheannacht dúinn
is cóir dúinn a bheith sásta
they’ve been thrown away
look for them in flea markets –
holy water fonts
Belovèd, who needs such things . . .
we have been blessed by Mammon
Benjamin West
83
XXXVIII
éireoidh na baird
iad siúd a cuireadh chun báis
chun tú a mholadh
beadsa fárstu, a chuisle
éist lenár n-amhrán aerach
they shall rise again
all the massacred Welsh bards
and sing Your praises
Belovèd, i shall join them
give ear to our ghostly song
Caspar David Friedrich
85
XXXIX
ní lorgaím thú
a chuisle, i mbrionglóidí
diúltaím do bhréaga!
ruaigim as m’aislingí thú
nocht tú féin go fírinneach
i do not seek You
Belovèd, in dreams – visions
no to the unreal!
i cast You out of my dreams
make Yourself known as You are
Street Art in Malaysia
87
XL
is ilchruthach mé
i m’fhia-luch inniu
amárach cá bhfios
im’ dhuine, seans, a thaisce
ní chuirfinnse tharam é
i ’m a shape shifter
today i am a mouse-deer
tomorrow who knows
a human being, Belovèd
anything is possible
Pieter Bruegel
89
XLI
ní bheidh aon arán
ná leite ag an mbainis
ná anraith ná beoir
ná fliuchadh do bhéil agat
ár n-anam a aontófar
Belovèd, no bread
no porridge for our wedding
no, nor soup either
beer shall not moisten Your lips
ours is a union of souls
Auguste Rodin
91
XLII
seo chugat arís mé
ar oilithreacht gan chloigeann
sea, sin é an chaoi
nuair nach mbím ag smaoineamh ort
is doscartha sinn araon
here we go again
on a headless pilgrimage
it’s the only way
when i have no thoughts of You
we are inseparable
Sarah Purser
93
XLIII
fiafraíonn siad díom, hé
an bhfuil aingil ann, dar leat
creidim ionatsa
i ngach rud, an tseanmóir
’thug an tAthair Mac Coinnich . . .
Belovèd, they ask
do you believe in angels
i believe in You
i believe in everything!
Father McKenzie’s sermon . . .
Street art in Chile
95
XLIV
iógaí-easaontóir
sé an duine nua é
gearrann trí bhréaga
le hanáil atá fíor-ghéar
a stór, is tú m’anáilse
the yogi-rebel
he is the new human being
he cuts through all lies
with breath – sharp as a razor
Belovèd, You are my breath
Paul Gauguin
97
XLV
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, Belovèd!
and i recall their warm scent
those pyramids of my youth
Karl Lessing
99
XLVI
an crosáidire
tá a mhisneach caillte aige
is trom é a chroí
ná lig dom bheith in amhras
treoraigh chugat féin mé de shíor
the last crusader
his faith has become shaky
and his heart heavy
may i never not believe
guide me, Belovèd, always
Richard Friese
101
XLVII
an ceart dom imeacht
bailiú liom as an áit seo
an domhan meata seo
ainm eile a úsáid:
Sean-Chraplachán an tSléibhe
should i go away
take myself from all of this
all of the world’s ills
be known by another name:
the Old Man of the Mountain
Aingil Bhriste
Gabriel Rosenstock
© Copyright tanka in Irish and English: Gabriel Rosenstock 2021
Bilingual ekphrastic tanka – poems of love, longing and
emptiness – in response to artwork by various hands.
In Irish and English
The artwork in this book is understood by the author to come
under the category of Fair Use, that is to say, a) the images are
widely available on the internet, and b) the images are not used
in this free e-book for commercial gain.
A bouquet of tanka poems
in strict syllabic configuration of 5-7-5-7-7.
BROKEN ANGELS
Aingil Bhriste
Gabriel Rosenstock is a bilingual poet, tankaist,
novelist, haikuist, short story writer, playwright,
essayist and translator.
Blog | Books | Website
Published in association with:
Cross-Cultural Communications
239 Wynsum Avenue Merrick, NY 11566-4725/USA
Tel: 516/868-5635 Fax: 516/379-1901
Email: cccpoetry@aol.com
5
Acknowledgements
(Artwork: Public Domain, Wikimedia
Commons and Fair Use)
A few of these tanka first appeared in Feasta
(Ireland), Café Dissensus (India) and Modern
Literature (India).
Gabhann an t-údar buíochas leis an
gComhairle Ealaíon a thug Sparánacht dó
chun luí isteach ar an tanka Gaeilge.
The author gratefully acknowledges receipt of
an Arts Council Bursary which has enabled
him to continue with his experiments in Irish-
language tanka.
Artists
Cover: Piet Mondrian
Otto Eckmann
Fernand Combes
Otto Müller
Giuseppe Arcimboldo
Serge Sudeikin
Hans Baldung
Katsushika Hokusai
Artur Bordalo
Suzanne Valadon
T. Kosztka Csontváry
Kit Williams
Martin Schongauer
J.J.X. Bidauld
Anita Malfatti
J.Baptiste Vanmour
Vincent van Gogh
J.R. de Torres
Michelangelo
Walter Osborne
Ludovic Allaume
Ludwig Knaus
John Singer Sargent
H.A. Brendekilde
Ferdinand Hodler
Henry Scott Tuke
C. Sprague Pearce
ADW
Winslow Homer
Hugo Simberg
Walter Gramatté
Edvard Munch
Eugène Burnand
Max Liebermann
Albin Egger-Lienz
Benjamin West
C.D. Friedrich
Pieter Bruegel
Auguste Rodin
Sarah Purser
Paul Gauguin
Richard Friese
Karl Lessing
7
Roderic O’Connor
Henri Rousseau
Hieronymous Bosch
Jan Mankes
Paul Nash
Carl Larrson
Vermeer
Chaïm Soutine
Paritosh Sen
Otto Eckmann
9
I
bhfuil an chorr oíche
in ann í féin a fheiscint
mura bhfeicfinn thú
conas a chífinn mé féin
grág na nduan sa doircheacht
can the night heron
see itself in the water
if i can’t see You
how then can i see my Self
poems croaking in the darkness
Fernand Combes
11
II
folamh i d’éagmais
gach sráid agus gach bóthar
chuile chaochbhealach
liath gach sráid is bóthar
liath chuile chaochbhealach
empty, without You,
every street and every road
every blind alley
grey every street every road
every blind alley is grey
Otto Mueller
13
III
deir an crann gabhlach
gabh an tslí seo, an tslí sin
fanfad faoina scáth
ní thuigeann sé thú, a chuid
ní thuigeann d’uileláithreacht
the forked tree tells me
go this way and go that way
i’ll stay in its shade
it does not understand You
Your very omnipresence
Giuseppe Arcimboldo
15
IV
Aonghus fáin, ambaist
is a cheann bocht trí thine
mo dhála féin mhuis’
tuleáil an mhonsúin, a ghrá
lasracha chun na díleann
wandering Aonghus
he had a fire in his head
i too am ablaze
monsoon rains pour down on me
flames rise up to meet the flood
Serge Sudeikin
17
V
an ré ’na finné
agus is leor sin domsa
dá n-imeofá uaim
d’iompóinnse chuicisin
a nochtann a háilleacht dom
the moon’s my witness
and that is enough for me
if You should leave me
i ’d turn to her, Belovèd
she who unveils her beauty
Hans Baldung
19
VI
táim faoi dhraíocht dar leo
tá tú feicthe acu ar scuab
ceisteoidh siad mé
dófar ag an stáca mé
(bhíos cheana i mo luaithreach)
they claim i’m bewitched
they have seen You ride a broom
i’m to be questioned
and later burned at the stake
(i’m no stranger to ashes)
Katsushika Hokusai
21
VII
tá sé feicthe agam
is nead seangán é Fuji
ná géill d’aon duine
níl aon ní mar fhéachann sé
is tá leath an domhain faoi cheilt
i have seen Fuji
Belovèd, a mere anthill
believe nobody
nothing is quite what it is
most of what’s real is unseen
Yuwana
23
XIII
bíonn an t-ioguána
is é ag suirí, a chuid
ag bobáil a chinn
bhaineas triail as an gcleas sin
tá mo cheann ag titim díom
when it goes courting
it does lots of head bobbing
the iguana
Belovèd, i have tried it
now my head is falling off
Suzanne Valadon
25
IX
chomh ciúin le cat
nó níos ciúine fós, a shearc
bhfuil slí eile ann
gan m’anáil a tharraingt fiú
nó chaillfinn thú is cinnte
as still as a cat
or quieter still, Belovèd
there’s no other way
i mustn’t breathe – mustn’t blink
or surely i will miss You
Tivadar Kosztka Csontvary
27
X
‘cá bhfuil sí,’ ar sé
(thugas mo dhánta don saoi)
‘ní fheicimse í!’
ní saoi thusa ar chor ar bith
níor leagadh súil riamh uirthi
‘where is She,’ he asked
(i’d given a sage my book)
‘i cannot see Her!’
you are not a sage, said i
or you’d know She can’t be seen
Martin Schongauer
29
XI
is neach fiáin mé
thugas mo chúl leis an domhan
maide is sciath agam
ar fán anois leis an ngaoth
scairtim d’ainm leis an spéir
i am a wild man
i’ve forsaken society
with club and with shield
i wander where the wind blows
roar Your name to the heavens
Jean-Joseph-Xavier Bidauld
31
XII
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, Belovèd
Kit Williams
33
XIII
scaoileadh leat ab ea
ní bheadh ciall ar bith leis sin
scaoileadh liom Féinig?
fáinleoga ag bailiú leo
ach cá raghainnse, a stóirín ó
should i let You go
no, that makes no sense at all
let go of my Self?
swallows fly to Africa
ah, but where have i to go
Anita Malfatti
35
XIV
amhrán cam é seo
i dtigh cam a cumadh é
gar do chonair cham
bíodh an rud díreach ag cách
táimse cam, a stóirín ó
here’s a crooked song
written in a crooked house
near a crooked path
let the world have its straight songs
Belovèd, i am deviant
Jean Baptiste Vanmour
37
XV
file, deirbhíseach
Yunus Emre: lá amháin
cad a tharla dhó
leáigh sé ann féin, a thaisce
mar ór a ndéanfaí leacht de
poet and dervish
Yunus Emre saw himself
as clear as daylight
he melted into himself
like flowing gold, Belovèd
Vincent Van Gogh
39
XVI
tar éis mheán oíche
níl aon ní eile le rá
i m’aonar atáim
táthar ag ól apsainte
chun rud éigin a dhearúd
it ’s after midnight
there is nothing more to say
i am all alone
everyone’s drinking absinthe
what are we trying to forget
Julio Romero de Torres
41
XVII
canann an domhan duit
lasmuigh de na dánta seo
amhrán glas ón gcrann
ón scairdeán amhrán spleodrach
an chéad ghiolcadh ón ngearrcach
all things chant for You
not just these poems, Belovèd
trees chant leafy songs
fountains their bubbly songs
the nestling’s first chirp is You
Michelangelo
43
XVIII
diabhail deamhain agus jinn
deacair a gcumhacht a shéanadh
gan éifeacht bíd
nuair a luaimse d’ainm
teitheann siad go maolchluasach
devils demons jinn
it’s hard to deny their power
but what can they do
Belovèd, i say Your name
and they scatter sheepishly
Mayfield Map Mosaic
45
XIX
nach mbeadh fhios agat
chuir na mapaí ar strae mé
ní mór dom dul siar
comhcheilg an domhain i m’aghaidh
a chuisle, domhan seo na mbréag
wouldn’t you know it
the maps have led me astray
i’ll retrace my steps
the world conspires against me
Belovèd, this world of lies
Walter Osborne
47
XX
Bleá Cliath, a thaisce
roimh aimsir na réabhlóide
is cuma shéimh air
ach tá rud éigin san aer
is fós in éamh na bhfaoileán
Dublin, Belovèd
before the revolution
and all seems peaceful
but there’s something in the air
it pierces the seagull ’s cry
Saint-Germain Vitrail
49
XXI
feictear thú gach lá
nó feictear uair amháin thú
nó ní fheictear thú
feictear thú i do Mhaighdean
nó tagann siad ort i ndán
some see You daily
others once in a lifetime
some never see You
some find You in the Virgin
others know You in a poem
Ludwig Knaus
51
XXII
an bandia thú
bandia na síochána
ní chreideann éinne
i mbandéithe ná sa tsíth
táimid damnaithe, a chuid
are You a goddess
the goddess of peace, perhaps
who believes in You?
no one believes any more
we are all damned, Belovèd
John Singer Sargent
53
XXIII
tá tú feicthe acu
do leagan siúil, a thaisce
tá tú cloiste acu
ní bhfuaireadar ach spléachadh ort
nochtann tú is téann as amharc
some swear they’ve seen You
others swear they have heard You
some describe Your walk
at most they have had a glimpse
You appear and disappear
Hans Andersen Brendekilde
55
XXIV
sea, tuigeann sé mé
an Giúdach Fáin, a thaisce
tuigimse eisean
táimid ar fad ar deoraíocht
is faobhar rásúir é an ród
he understands me
Belovèd, the Wandering Jew
i understand him
are we not all in exile
this road is a razor’s edge
Ferdinand Hodler
57
XXV
im’ dheisitheoir lín
gafa le hamhráin bhriste
cá dtosóm, a chuid
deisitheoir amhrán, gan tiúin
can dom os íseal, a stór
a netmender i
enmeshed in these broken songs
where does one begin
songmender – i ’ve lost the tune
Belovèd, hum it softly
Henry Scott Tuke
59
XXVI
dheineas cur síos ort
do sheanmhairnéalach lá
lean ort, ar seisean
bhí gach aon rud feicthe aige
níor theastaigh uaidh go stopfainn
i once described You
to a wistful old seadog
he had seen it all
go on, he said, continue
he didn’t want me to stop
Charles Sprague Pearce
61
XXVII
tine a mhúnlaigh
agus a d’athchum an tseoid
an tine atá beo
tine thús an domhain, a stór
is tine éag na cruinne
fire that shaped the jewel
fire of its refashioning
fire that is alive
fire of the earth’s beginning
fire that will consume the world
Waterford Walls
63
XXVIII
misteach is file
i ngan fhios don scuad lámhaigh
cad a mhúintear dóibh,
saighdiúirí na Breataine
an múintear rún-éigse dhóibh
he was a mystic
did the firing squad know that
what do they teach them
British soldiers, Belovèd
are they taught hermetic poems
Winslow Homer
65
XXIX
roinnimse an dúil
atá ionainn, síol Éabha,
i ngairdín an tséin
is dílleachtaí sinn, a chuid
dílleachtaí dalla gan léas
i share the longing
of everyone born of Eve
for the celestial garden
we are orphans, Belovèd
blind orphans starved of the light
Hugo Simberg
67
XXX
lig dom canadh leis
do na haingil ‘tá leonta
balbh ag dobrón
is líonmhar iad, a thaisce
ealaí na sciathán gan feidhm
and let me sing too
for all the wounded angels
struck dumb by sorrow
Belovèd, they are legion
swans whose wings have let them down
Street art in Portugal
69
XXXI
níl gunnán agam
níl ná tarbh-bhrocaire
cad tá i ndán dom
shíleas go mairfinn ar ghrá
mé i m’fhinné creachta air sin
i ’ve neither a gun
nor a pit bull terrier
how will i survive
once i thought i ’d live on love
i ’ve the scars to remind me
Walter Gramatté
71
XXXII
bhí fear ann fadó
ní raibh aithne ag éinne air
bhí croí na bó ann
croí mór a bhí róthrom dó
is b’éigean dó é ’thabhairt uaidh
there once was a man
no one knew the half of him
a man with a heart
it was too heavy for him
and so he gave it away
Edvard Munch
73
XXXIII
imní, a chuisle
imní an domhain chéasta seo
ag dul in olcas
tá do sholas uainn go géar
tarrtháil le do niamhracht sinn
Belovèd, the angst
the ever-increasing angst
of our tortured world
where is Your light when needed
rescue us with Your radiance
Eugène Burnand
75
XXXIV
gan tú a fheiscint
delirium tremens, sea
gan do ghuth a chlos
gan aithne a chur ort
gan grá a thabhairt duit – ifreann
not to see You now
is delirium tremens
not to hear Your voice
not to know You – hell itself
not to love You – damnation
Getsemani Street Art
77
XXXV
anocht, a ghrá geal
anocht in Cartagena
beidh oscailt súl ann
seans go gcloisfear mallacht uaidh –
Gabriel García Márquez
let’s meet, my Treasure
tonight in Cartagena
our eyes will open
we might hear him cursing still –
Gabriel García Márquez
Max Liebermann
79
XXXVI
tá an máinlia réidh
d’iarras air mo chroí a bhaint
caithfidh mé uaim é
ruainne chun na Bóinne glé
an fuílleach sa Yamuna
the surgeon’s ready
remove my heart, i ’ve told him
to be cast away
a piece for the river Boyne
what’s left for the Yamuna
Albin Egger-Lienz
81
XXXVII
caitheadh amach iad
umair uisce choisricthe
níl gá leo, a chuid
thug Mamón a bheannacht dúinn
is cóir dúinn a bheith sásta
they’ve been thrown away
look for them in flea markets –
holy water fonts
Belovèd, who needs such things . . .
we have been blessed by Mammon
Benjamin West
83
XXXVIII
éireoidh na baird
iad siúd a cuireadh chun báis
chun tú a mholadh
beadsa fárstu, a chuisle
éist lenár n-amhrán aerach
they shall rise again
all the massacred Welsh bards
and sing Your praises
Belovèd, i shall join them
give ear to our ghostly song
Caspar David Friedrich
85
XXXIX
ní lorgaím thú
a chuisle, i mbrionglóidí
diúltaím do bhréaga!
ruaigim as m’aislingí thú
nocht tú féin go fírinneach
i do not seek You
Belovèd, in dreams – visions
no to the unreal!
i cast You out of my dreams
make Yourself known as You are
Street Art in Malaysia
87
XL
is ilchruthach mé
i m’fhia-luch inniu
amárach cá bhfios
im’ dhuine, seans, a thaisce
ní chuirfinnse tharam é
i ’m a shape shifter
today i am a mouse-deer
tomorrow who knows
a human being, Belovèd
anything is possible
Pieter Bruegel
89
XLI
ní bheidh aon arán
ná leite ag an mbainis
ná anraith ná beoir
ná fliuchadh do bhéil agat
ár n-anam a aontófar
Belovèd, no bread
no porridge for our wedding
no, nor soup either
beer shall not moisten Your lips
ours is a union of souls
Auguste Rodin
91
XLII
seo chugat arís mé
ar oilithreacht gan chloigeann
sea, sin é an chaoi
nuair nach mbím ag smaoineamh ort
is doscartha sinn araon
here we go again
on a headless pilgrimage
it’s the only way
when i have no thoughts of You
we are inseparable
Sarah Purser
93
XLIII
fiafraíonn siad díom, hé
an bhfuil aingil ann, dar leat
creidim ionatsa
i ngach rud, an tseanmóir
’thug an tAthair Mac Coinnich . . .
Belovèd, they ask
do you believe in angels
i believe in You
i believe in everything!
Father McKenzie’s sermon . . .
Street art in Chile
95
XLIV
iógaí-easaontóir
sé an duine nua é
gearrann trí bhréaga
le hanáil atá fíor-ghéar
a stór, is tú m’anáilse
the yogi-rebel
he is the new human being
he cuts through all lies
with breath – sharp as a razor
Belovèd, You are my breath
Paul Gauguin
97
XLV
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, Belovèd!
and i recall their warm scent
those pyramids of my youth
Karl Lessing
99
XLVI
an crosáidire
tá a mhisneach caillte aige
is trom é a chroí
ná lig dom bheith in amhras
treoraigh chugat féin mé de shíor
the last crusader
his faith has become shaky
and his heart heavy
may i never not believe
guide me, Belovèd, always
Richard Friese
101
XLVII
an ceart dom imeacht
bailiú liom as an áit seo
an domhan meata seo
ainm eile a úsáid:
Sean-Chraplachán an tSléibhe
should i go away
take myself from all of this
all of the world’s ills
be known by another name:
the Old Man of the Mountain