Bilingual tanka, in Irish and English, in response to artwork by various hands. Mystic poems of love, longing and emptiness in 5-7-5-7-7 syllables.
Gabriel Rosenstock is a bilingual poet, tankaist,
novelist, haikuist, short story writer, playwright,
essayist and translator.
Published in 2021 in association with: Cross-Cultural Communications
239 Wynsum Avenue Merrick, NY 11566-4725/USA
Copyright: Irish-language and English-language tanka, Gabriel Rosenstock, 2021
About Gabriel Rosenstock
Gabriel Rosenstock is a bilingual poet, tankaist, haikuist, novelist, playwright, short storywriter, essayist and translator. He lives in Ireland.
SECRET OF SECRETS
rún na rún
G A B R I E L R O S E N S T O C K
3
SECRET OF SECRETS
rún na rún
Copyright: Irish-language and English-language tanka,
Gabriel Rosenstock, 2021
Bilingual tanka, in Irish and English, in response to artwork by
various hands. Mystic poems of love, longing and emptiness
in 5-7-5-7-7 syllables.
A few of these tanka first appeared in Modern Literature (Chennai).
Gabriel Rosenstock is a bilingual poet, tankaist,
novelist, haikuist, short story writer, playwright,
essayist and translator.
Blog | Books | Website
Published in 2021 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
4
5
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
(Artwork: Public Domain; Open Access
Artworks, The Met; Euorpeana; Wikimedia
Commons, Rawpixel; Fair Use, i.e. images
widely available on the internet and not used
in this free book for commercial purposes).
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: N. Roerich
C. D. Friedrich
G. F. Watts
David Burluik
Lasar Segall
Thomas Eakins
Isoda Koryusai
Nicolae Tonitza
Henri Martin
Vilhelm Hammershøi
Fernand Khnopff
Walter Gramatté
Å. Waldemar Larsson
J. W. Waterhouse
Hiroshige
Vincent van Gogh
Ogawa Kazumasa
Ohara Koson
Taguchi Tomoki
Itō Jakuchū
6
Morimoto Toko
Watanabe Seitei
Odilon Redon
Negoro Raizan
Hegedüs László
Harald Slott-Møller
Vilhelms Purvītis
Paul Gauguin
Jēkabs Kazaks
Janis Rozentāls
Bohumil Kubišta
J.M. W.Turner
Gentile da Fabriano
Janos Tornyai
Ligia Macovei
Abraham Manievich
Ştefan Popescu
Abram Games
Shitao
Bob Law
7
Nicholas Roerich
Ipolit Strambu
Mario Sironi
Ion Theodorescu-Sion
Leon Bakst
Albert Bloch
Lyonel Feininger
Kahlil Gibran
F. du Puigaudeau
René Magritte
Abanindranath Tagore
Caspar David Fr iedrich
9
I
níl aon ní ar domhan
níos fuaire ná dolman fuar
sa sneachta, a chuid
seachas croí cuardaitheora
nuair is eol dó bheith ar strae
nothing is colder
than a cold dolmen in snow
nothing, Belovèd
save the heart of a seeker
when he knows he’s lost his way
George Frederick Watts
11
II
is iomaí caille
a chlúdaíonn do mhistéirí
mo thrua an sceipteach –
nár fháisceas-sa do lámh gheal
a lonraigh sa dorchacht!
many are the veils
that conceal Your mystery
confounding sceptics
but have i not pressed Your hand
and felt it glow in the dark!
David Burl iuk
13
III
an domhan ina thost
deineadh slí do na lachain
is dá ngrágaíl bhuí
an chéad uair dom iad a chlos
is gan tú ann, a thaisce!
the world fell silent
making room for all the ducks
yellow-billed quacking
my first time hearing that sound
Belovèd, had you been there!
Lasar Segal l
15
IV
fuinneoga gan léas
na doirse nach n-osclaíonn riamh
plandaí nach mbláthaíonn
saol i ndiaidh saoil, a thaisce
i bhfásaigh na cruinne seo
windows that see not
and doors that never open
plants that never bloom
countless stale lives, Belovèd
in the wastelands of the world
Japan, 5th-6th cent.
17
V
iomrascálaí mé
‘an té ’tá i ngleic leis féin’
nuair a chloífear mé
tiocfad chugat is mé lomnocht
agus pógfad do dhá throigh
i am the wrestler
‘he who wrestles with himself’
when i’m defeated
i shall come to You, naked
Belovèd to kiss Your feet
Thomas Eakins
19
VI
iomrascáil leat féin
agus leis an domhan go léir
stad! a d’ordaigh tú
do ghuth – an ghaoth sa ghiolcach
codlaíonn lachain faoi réaltaí
wrestling with yourself
and wrestling with the whole world
stop it! You ordered
Your voice – the wind in the reeds
ducks sleep gently under stars
Isoda Kor yusai
21
VII
a bloody cockfight
what use is a gentle smile
that is worn all day
when, look! feathers fly at night
in dreams – Belovèd, wake me!
troid choileach, a stór
cad is fiú an meangadh séimh
i lár an lae ghil
más cogadh dearg istoíche é
i mbrionglóidí – dúisigh mé!
Nicolae Tonitza
23
VIII
an-éileamh orm
mar fhear grinn, a stóirín ó
can do chuid amhrán! . . .
dochreidte greannmhar, nach bhfuil?!
an-éileamh orm go deo
i’m in great demand
as a clown, my Beloved
sing your songs! they cry
impossibly funny, no?!
they can’t get enough of them
Henri Mar tin
25
IX
níl aon deireadh leis
an tost, a ansacht, an tost
tost gan tús gan chríoch
seachnaíonn sé sinn i gcónaí
sé rún na rún é an tost
there’s no end to it
nor was there a beginning
silence, Belovèd
it evades us all the time
it’s the secret of secrets
Vilhelm Hammershøi
27
X
bogann tú go séimh
doshamhlaithe – mar thaibhreamh
tá tú dom’ thástáil
mo chéadfaí agus mo mheabhair
an é nach ann duit, a chuid
silently You move
inconceivably – a dream
testing my senses
and my very sanity
moving as though You’re not there
Fernand Khnopf f
29
XI
tanka gan bhriathra
amhráin an tosta, a stór
m’ofráil duitse
glac le m’íobairt tosta-sa
anois is go deo na ndeor
these silent tanka
are wordless songs, Belovèd
simple offerings
may they be acceptable
now until the end of time
Walter Gramatté
31
XII
táid feicthe agam
súile na ndaoine go léir
nach bhfaca riamh thú
nár shamhlaigh thú: bím im’ staic
ní bhím in ann faic a rá
i have seen their eyes
those who have never glimpsed You
or imagined You
and i am left lost for words
i can say nothing at all
Åke Waldemar Larsson
33
XIII
sé mo ghuí, a chuid
go soilseoidh mo dhánta mé
ós uaitse a thagann siad
mo chonair féin ’léiriú dom
caol díreach chugatsa, a thaisce
Belovèd, these words
may they illuminate me
for they come from You
may they show me my own path
leading only to Your door
John Wil l iam Waterhouse
35
XIV
amach leat, deir siad
ba chóir duit a bheith amuigh
tabharfadsa ‘amuigh’ dhóibh
bhíos amuigh cheana ambaist
tá sé ar fad feicthe agam
you should get out more
that’s what they say, my Treasure
out? out? out is it?
haven’t i been out before
God knows i have seen it all
Hiroshige
37
XV
síos liom, a thaisce
isteach i gcroí d’ainmse
ar nós an chruidín
is scaoileann tú liom arís
chun go dtumfainnse athuair
i plunge, Belovèd
into the heart of Your name
like a kingfisher
and You release me again
so that i may dive once more
Anon
39
XVI
chuireas cárta chugat
le súil go sroisfidh sé thú
cárta ón Eastóin
níl seoladh ar bith agam duit
freagair le casadh an phoist
i’ve sent a postcard
i hope You will receive it
from Estonia
though i’ve no address for You
answer by return of post
Vincent van Gogh
41
XVII
níl radharc acu ’rainn
is sinn ag taisteal i gcairt
ar bhóithríní
sí an chairt dheireanach í
ar na bóithríní deiridh
no one can see us
as we travel in our cart
exploring boreens
ours is the last of the carts
to travel the last boreens
Ogawa Kazumasa
43
XVIII
triall ar Shliabh Fuiji
is ionann é, a thaisce
is teacht abhaile
ní féidir dul go Fuji
ní féidir teacht abhaile
going to Fuji
it is the same, Belovèd
as coming from there
no one can go to Fuji
no one can ever return
Ohara Koson
45
XIX
anocht, a thaisce,
nó istoíche amárach
beidh deireadh leis seo
ní tharlóidh sé níos mó
rinneadh gogaille gó díom
tonight, my Treasure
or maybe tomorrow night
i shall search no more
it will all come to an end . . .
i’ve been on a fool’s errand
Taguchi Tomoki
47
XX
is fada ag teacht é
tost uafásach na bhfaoileán
ní mhairfidh i bhfad
is gearr go líonfaidh an spéir
lena mbuairt – a n-éamh ársa
a long time coming
heavy silence of seagulls
it cannot last long
soon the sky will fill once more
with all their ancient sorrow
Itō Jakuchū
49
XXI
níos gaire ná riamh
tá tú an-ghar dom anois
an tóraíocht ar ceal
ach mar sin féin, a ansacht . . .
conas nach aon sinn go fóill
nearer and nearer
You are so near to me now
i’ll call off the search
and yet, Belovèd and yet . . .
how is it we are not one
Morimoto Toko
51
XXII
glór na ciocáide
cad as a dtagann an fhuaim
anoir nó aniar
tagann aniar aduaidh orm
ag teacht as gach áit ’tá sé
is it from the east
or does it come from the west
where does it come from
it comes from here and from there
cicada’s song – everywhere
Watanabe Seitei
53
XXIII
cé ’chloíonn lena fhís
éiríonn an-chuid daoine as
sula dtosaíonn siad
dream nach bhfuil dílis d’éinne
is an dream diongbháilte
true seekers are rare
many give up on the way
some never commence
others flit from path to path
some never waver at all
Odilon Redon
55
XXIV
mise mé féinig
’chuir faobhar ar an rinn sin
’ghabh sa bheo ionam
is mise a chuir an crann
mise a scamh an t-adhmad
it is i myself
that’s sharpening the arrow tip
that pierces the flesh
it’s i that’s planting the tree
it’s i that’s whittling the wood
Negoro Raizan
57
XXV
níl ann ach ciúnas
ciúnas ar feadh raon na súl
tuilleadh ciúnais thíos
snámhann éisc sa síorchiúnas
fá shuan, na súile ar leathadh
nothing but silence
as far as the eye can see
more silence below
fishes swimming in silence
asleep, their eyes wide open
Hegedüs László
59
XXVI
bhí do thost-sa ann
go séimh os cionn na Séine
uiscí spéir-líonta
ar feadh aon soicind amháin
i gcaitheamh na síoraíochta
Your silence was there
serenely above the Seine
the sky-filled waters
but only for a second
of all of eternity
Anon
61
XXVII
dá gcaithfinn canadh
is móid tosta a bhriseadh
chanfainnse mar éan
éan parthais, a chuisle
cé nár chuala riamh a ghlór
if i were to sing
and break a vow of silence
’twould be as a bird
yea – the bird of paradise
though i know not how it sings
Harald Slott-Møl ler
63
XXVIII
an bhfuilim cortha
is cuma má táim cortha
is mé sa tóir ort
an cóir dom luí siar faoi scáth
agus m’aisling a thréigean?
do i grow weary
well then, let me grow weary
weary in pursuit
should i find some shady nook
forsake this vision of You?
Vilhelms Pur vītis
65
XXVIX
níl geimhreadh ar bith ann
ní bheidh – choíche ná go brách
is seachmall é
níl ann ach do loinnirse
ar fud na bhfud go deo deo
there is no winter
no, nor will there ever be
it’s an illusion
nothing but Your lustre now
permeating everything
Paul Gauguin
67
XXX
lorgaím each bán
each a thabharfaidh chugatsa mé
is eol dó an tslí
aithneoidh tusa é
bhíomar cheana dod’ lorg
i seek a white horse
one that can take me to You
one that knows the way
You will recognise him well
we have searched for You before
Jēkabs Kazaks
69
XXXI
an gcloiseann tú iad
teifigh uile an domhain seo
ón gcéad ghorta riamh
ón gcéad chogadh nó pogram
ón uair a scaramar leat
say You can hear them
refugees of all the world
since the first famine
the first war, the first pogrom
our separation from You
Anon
71
XXXII
féach, táim cloch-chraicneach
gáire níl uaim ná deora
im’ dhuibheagán féin
feicimse neamhroinnte sinn
dosháraithe inár n-aon
i’ve become stone-faced
i laugh not nor do i weep
in my own quiet depths
i see us undivided
inviolable, as one
Janis Rozentāls
73
XXXIII
a thaisce, éist liom
d’fhéadfainn bheith im’ pheata agat
pearóid nó moncaí
nó im’ chaitín ag crónán
do rogha rud ambaist’ – gé
Belovèd, listen
hey, i could be your plaything
parrot or monkey
i could be a purring cat
whatever you like – a goose
Bohumil Kubišta
75
XXXIV
briathra ag eitilt
chun mé a ghoineadh go smior
binneas na Gaeilge
cruas an gharbh-Bhéarla araon
ag filleadh ar a bhfoinse
words are flying back
to pierce me to the marrow
soft words of Irish
rough pointed words of English
fly back to their source in me
Wil l iam Turner
77
XXXV
dhéanfainn mo shlí chugat
trí thost an tsaoil seo, a chuid
is trína challán
is trí dhiminsin aineoil
gan aon anáil a tharraingt
i would make my way
to You through the world’s silence
and through the world’s noise
and through dimensions unknown
and never stopping for breath
Genti le da Fabriano
79
XXXVI
gramadach an ghrá
a fhoghlaim ó thús deireadh
m’aon chúram amháin
cuir scrúdú orm, táim réidh
mé i mo shuí go maidin
to the very end
learning the grammar of love
my only duty
examine me, i’m ready
i have burned the midnight oil
Janos Tornyai
81
XXXVII
d’fhéadfadh gur fíor é
táimse sa tóir ort, a stór
is tusa amhlaidh
agus an mar sin a bheidh
ar feadh na seacht saol abhus
it might well be so
i look for You, Belovèd
and You look for me
and shall it be always thus
for the course of seven births
Ligia Macovei
83
XXXVIII
bheith scuabtha chun siúil
in airde chuig ríocht aineoil
deireadh le gach deighilt
ag súil leis sin atáimid
mór-fhilleadh ar na réaltaí
to be whisked away
taken into unknown spheres
no more divisions
is this what we’re waiting for
the great return to the stars
Edmund Blair Leighton
85
XXXIX
bhíos anseo cheana
ar mo ghlúine anseo romhat
táim dearmadta agat
an t-aistear a chuireas díom
le bheith anseo os do chomhair
i’ve knelt here before
and surely must kneel again
You’ve forgotten me
the long journey i’ve made
to kneel here now before You
Abraham Manievich
87
XL
an chraobh ag feitheamh
b’in mise an t-am ar fad
ní athróidh mé
an chraobh ag súil le préachán
sinn ag tnúth leis an earrach
the branch that awaits
this is what i’ve always been
and so it will be
a branch that awaits a crow
autumn branch awaiting spring
Ştefan Popescu
89
XLI
rinceoirí reoite
na crainn i lár an gheimhridh
a dhamhsaigh duitse
is duitse amháin, a thaisce
nach trua a gcás – nach trua
like frozen dancers
trees in winter: petrified
they have danced for You
and You alone, Belovèd
is theirs not a sorry fate?
Anon
91
XLII
conas teacht ortsa
mura dtiocfainn orm féin
sa triscéil Bhreatnach
tairseach an neamhní, a chuid
ag cur thar maoil gan teorainn
how can i find You
if i cannot find myself
in a Welsh triskele
a portal to nothingness
brimful of borderlessness
Abram Games
93
XLIII
a thaisce, éist liom
ní thagann na focail chugam
ní osclaím mo bhéal
tá an milleán ar an ré
sé an tost a chanann duit
Belovèd, listen
i can no longer form words
or open my mouth
it is the times we live in
the silence it is that sings
Shitao
95
XLIV
éist! comhrá na mbláth
cén fáth nach labhrann tú liom
cén fáth? freagair mé
cloisim a gcuid mionchainte
cad atá á rá acu
listen! flowers converse
why not You and i, dear one
why not? answer me
i overhear their small talk
trying to make sense of it
Bob Law
97
XLV
níl brí le focail
cumfadsa teanga nua dhuit
teanga dúinn beirt
gutaí is mó ’bheidh inti
giolcadh pearóidí glasa
words lose their meaning
i’ll invent a new language
for the two of us
composed mostly of vowels
twittering of green parrots
Nicholas Roerich
99
XLVI
ba é ár gcéad éamh
a bhris an ciúnas bunaidh
táimid á lorg
an tost binn a chailleamar
n’fheadar cár fhágamar é
our very first cry
smashed the primeval silence
now we look for it
such sweet silence we have lost
where could we have mislaid it
Ipolit Strambu
101
XLVII
uair amháin bhí bláth
a d’fhás i nGairdín Éidin
bhíos riamh ar mire
a ansacht, bronnaim ort é
d’fhonn ár mbuile a cheiliúradh
there once was a flower
it sprouted in Paradise
i was always mad
dear One, i give you that flower
to celebrate our frenzy
rún na rún
G A B R I E L R O S E N S T O C K
3
SECRET OF SECRETS
rún na rún
Copyright: Irish-language and English-language tanka,
Gabriel Rosenstock, 2021
Bilingual tanka, in Irish and English, in response to artwork by
various hands. Mystic poems of love, longing and emptiness
in 5-7-5-7-7 syllables.
A few of these tanka first appeared in Modern Literature (Chennai).
Gabriel Rosenstock is a bilingual poet, tankaist,
novelist, haikuist, short story writer, playwright,
essayist and translator.
Blog | Books | Website
Published in 2021 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
4
5
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
(Artwork: Public Domain; Open Access
Artworks, The Met; Euorpeana; Wikimedia
Commons, Rawpixel; Fair Use, i.e. images
widely available on the internet and not used
in this free book for commercial purposes).
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: N. Roerich
C. D. Friedrich
G. F. Watts
David Burluik
Lasar Segall
Thomas Eakins
Isoda Koryusai
Nicolae Tonitza
Henri Martin
Vilhelm Hammershøi
Fernand Khnopff
Walter Gramatté
Å. Waldemar Larsson
J. W. Waterhouse
Hiroshige
Vincent van Gogh
Ogawa Kazumasa
Ohara Koson
Taguchi Tomoki
Itō Jakuchū
6
Morimoto Toko
Watanabe Seitei
Odilon Redon
Negoro Raizan
Hegedüs László
Harald Slott-Møller
Vilhelms Purvītis
Paul Gauguin
Jēkabs Kazaks
Janis Rozentāls
Bohumil Kubišta
J.M. W.Turner
Gentile da Fabriano
Janos Tornyai
Ligia Macovei
Abraham Manievich
Ştefan Popescu
Abram Games
Shitao
Bob Law
7
Nicholas Roerich
Ipolit Strambu
Mario Sironi
Ion Theodorescu-Sion
Leon Bakst
Albert Bloch
Lyonel Feininger
Kahlil Gibran
F. du Puigaudeau
René Magritte
Abanindranath Tagore
Caspar David Fr iedrich
9
I
níl aon ní ar domhan
níos fuaire ná dolman fuar
sa sneachta, a chuid
seachas croí cuardaitheora
nuair is eol dó bheith ar strae
nothing is colder
than a cold dolmen in snow
nothing, Belovèd
save the heart of a seeker
when he knows he’s lost his way
George Frederick Watts
11
II
is iomaí caille
a chlúdaíonn do mhistéirí
mo thrua an sceipteach –
nár fháisceas-sa do lámh gheal
a lonraigh sa dorchacht!
many are the veils
that conceal Your mystery
confounding sceptics
but have i not pressed Your hand
and felt it glow in the dark!
David Burl iuk
13
III
an domhan ina thost
deineadh slí do na lachain
is dá ngrágaíl bhuí
an chéad uair dom iad a chlos
is gan tú ann, a thaisce!
the world fell silent
making room for all the ducks
yellow-billed quacking
my first time hearing that sound
Belovèd, had you been there!
Lasar Segal l
15
IV
fuinneoga gan léas
na doirse nach n-osclaíonn riamh
plandaí nach mbláthaíonn
saol i ndiaidh saoil, a thaisce
i bhfásaigh na cruinne seo
windows that see not
and doors that never open
plants that never bloom
countless stale lives, Belovèd
in the wastelands of the world
Japan, 5th-6th cent.
17
V
iomrascálaí mé
‘an té ’tá i ngleic leis féin’
nuair a chloífear mé
tiocfad chugat is mé lomnocht
agus pógfad do dhá throigh
i am the wrestler
‘he who wrestles with himself’
when i’m defeated
i shall come to You, naked
Belovèd to kiss Your feet
Thomas Eakins
19
VI
iomrascáil leat féin
agus leis an domhan go léir
stad! a d’ordaigh tú
do ghuth – an ghaoth sa ghiolcach
codlaíonn lachain faoi réaltaí
wrestling with yourself
and wrestling with the whole world
stop it! You ordered
Your voice – the wind in the reeds
ducks sleep gently under stars
Isoda Kor yusai
21
VII
a bloody cockfight
what use is a gentle smile
that is worn all day
when, look! feathers fly at night
in dreams – Belovèd, wake me!
troid choileach, a stór
cad is fiú an meangadh séimh
i lár an lae ghil
más cogadh dearg istoíche é
i mbrionglóidí – dúisigh mé!
Nicolae Tonitza
23
VIII
an-éileamh orm
mar fhear grinn, a stóirín ó
can do chuid amhrán! . . .
dochreidte greannmhar, nach bhfuil?!
an-éileamh orm go deo
i’m in great demand
as a clown, my Beloved
sing your songs! they cry
impossibly funny, no?!
they can’t get enough of them
Henri Mar tin
25
IX
níl aon deireadh leis
an tost, a ansacht, an tost
tost gan tús gan chríoch
seachnaíonn sé sinn i gcónaí
sé rún na rún é an tost
there’s no end to it
nor was there a beginning
silence, Belovèd
it evades us all the time
it’s the secret of secrets
Vilhelm Hammershøi
27
X
bogann tú go séimh
doshamhlaithe – mar thaibhreamh
tá tú dom’ thástáil
mo chéadfaí agus mo mheabhair
an é nach ann duit, a chuid
silently You move
inconceivably – a dream
testing my senses
and my very sanity
moving as though You’re not there
Fernand Khnopf f
29
XI
tanka gan bhriathra
amhráin an tosta, a stór
m’ofráil duitse
glac le m’íobairt tosta-sa
anois is go deo na ndeor
these silent tanka
are wordless songs, Belovèd
simple offerings
may they be acceptable
now until the end of time
Walter Gramatté
31
XII
táid feicthe agam
súile na ndaoine go léir
nach bhfaca riamh thú
nár shamhlaigh thú: bím im’ staic
ní bhím in ann faic a rá
i have seen their eyes
those who have never glimpsed You
or imagined You
and i am left lost for words
i can say nothing at all
Åke Waldemar Larsson
33
XIII
sé mo ghuí, a chuid
go soilseoidh mo dhánta mé
ós uaitse a thagann siad
mo chonair féin ’léiriú dom
caol díreach chugatsa, a thaisce
Belovèd, these words
may they illuminate me
for they come from You
may they show me my own path
leading only to Your door
John Wil l iam Waterhouse
35
XIV
amach leat, deir siad
ba chóir duit a bheith amuigh
tabharfadsa ‘amuigh’ dhóibh
bhíos amuigh cheana ambaist
tá sé ar fad feicthe agam
you should get out more
that’s what they say, my Treasure
out? out? out is it?
haven’t i been out before
God knows i have seen it all
Hiroshige
37
XV
síos liom, a thaisce
isteach i gcroí d’ainmse
ar nós an chruidín
is scaoileann tú liom arís
chun go dtumfainnse athuair
i plunge, Belovèd
into the heart of Your name
like a kingfisher
and You release me again
so that i may dive once more
Anon
39
XVI
chuireas cárta chugat
le súil go sroisfidh sé thú
cárta ón Eastóin
níl seoladh ar bith agam duit
freagair le casadh an phoist
i’ve sent a postcard
i hope You will receive it
from Estonia
though i’ve no address for You
answer by return of post
Vincent van Gogh
41
XVII
níl radharc acu ’rainn
is sinn ag taisteal i gcairt
ar bhóithríní
sí an chairt dheireanach í
ar na bóithríní deiridh
no one can see us
as we travel in our cart
exploring boreens
ours is the last of the carts
to travel the last boreens
Ogawa Kazumasa
43
XVIII
triall ar Shliabh Fuiji
is ionann é, a thaisce
is teacht abhaile
ní féidir dul go Fuji
ní féidir teacht abhaile
going to Fuji
it is the same, Belovèd
as coming from there
no one can go to Fuji
no one can ever return
Ohara Koson
45
XIX
anocht, a thaisce,
nó istoíche amárach
beidh deireadh leis seo
ní tharlóidh sé níos mó
rinneadh gogaille gó díom
tonight, my Treasure
or maybe tomorrow night
i shall search no more
it will all come to an end . . .
i’ve been on a fool’s errand
Taguchi Tomoki
47
XX
is fada ag teacht é
tost uafásach na bhfaoileán
ní mhairfidh i bhfad
is gearr go líonfaidh an spéir
lena mbuairt – a n-éamh ársa
a long time coming
heavy silence of seagulls
it cannot last long
soon the sky will fill once more
with all their ancient sorrow
Itō Jakuchū
49
XXI
níos gaire ná riamh
tá tú an-ghar dom anois
an tóraíocht ar ceal
ach mar sin féin, a ansacht . . .
conas nach aon sinn go fóill
nearer and nearer
You are so near to me now
i’ll call off the search
and yet, Belovèd and yet . . .
how is it we are not one
Morimoto Toko
51
XXII
glór na ciocáide
cad as a dtagann an fhuaim
anoir nó aniar
tagann aniar aduaidh orm
ag teacht as gach áit ’tá sé
is it from the east
or does it come from the west
where does it come from
it comes from here and from there
cicada’s song – everywhere
Watanabe Seitei
53
XXIII
cé ’chloíonn lena fhís
éiríonn an-chuid daoine as
sula dtosaíonn siad
dream nach bhfuil dílis d’éinne
is an dream diongbháilte
true seekers are rare
many give up on the way
some never commence
others flit from path to path
some never waver at all
Odilon Redon
55
XXIV
mise mé féinig
’chuir faobhar ar an rinn sin
’ghabh sa bheo ionam
is mise a chuir an crann
mise a scamh an t-adhmad
it is i myself
that’s sharpening the arrow tip
that pierces the flesh
it’s i that’s planting the tree
it’s i that’s whittling the wood
Negoro Raizan
57
XXV
níl ann ach ciúnas
ciúnas ar feadh raon na súl
tuilleadh ciúnais thíos
snámhann éisc sa síorchiúnas
fá shuan, na súile ar leathadh
nothing but silence
as far as the eye can see
more silence below
fishes swimming in silence
asleep, their eyes wide open
Hegedüs László
59
XXVI
bhí do thost-sa ann
go séimh os cionn na Séine
uiscí spéir-líonta
ar feadh aon soicind amháin
i gcaitheamh na síoraíochta
Your silence was there
serenely above the Seine
the sky-filled waters
but only for a second
of all of eternity
Anon
61
XXVII
dá gcaithfinn canadh
is móid tosta a bhriseadh
chanfainnse mar éan
éan parthais, a chuisle
cé nár chuala riamh a ghlór
if i were to sing
and break a vow of silence
’twould be as a bird
yea – the bird of paradise
though i know not how it sings
Harald Slott-Møl ler
63
XXVIII
an bhfuilim cortha
is cuma má táim cortha
is mé sa tóir ort
an cóir dom luí siar faoi scáth
agus m’aisling a thréigean?
do i grow weary
well then, let me grow weary
weary in pursuit
should i find some shady nook
forsake this vision of You?
Vilhelms Pur vītis
65
XXVIX
níl geimhreadh ar bith ann
ní bheidh – choíche ná go brách
is seachmall é
níl ann ach do loinnirse
ar fud na bhfud go deo deo
there is no winter
no, nor will there ever be
it’s an illusion
nothing but Your lustre now
permeating everything
Paul Gauguin
67
XXX
lorgaím each bán
each a thabharfaidh chugatsa mé
is eol dó an tslí
aithneoidh tusa é
bhíomar cheana dod’ lorg
i seek a white horse
one that can take me to You
one that knows the way
You will recognise him well
we have searched for You before
Jēkabs Kazaks
69
XXXI
an gcloiseann tú iad
teifigh uile an domhain seo
ón gcéad ghorta riamh
ón gcéad chogadh nó pogram
ón uair a scaramar leat
say You can hear them
refugees of all the world
since the first famine
the first war, the first pogrom
our separation from You
Anon
71
XXXII
féach, táim cloch-chraicneach
gáire níl uaim ná deora
im’ dhuibheagán féin
feicimse neamhroinnte sinn
dosháraithe inár n-aon
i’ve become stone-faced
i laugh not nor do i weep
in my own quiet depths
i see us undivided
inviolable, as one
Janis Rozentāls
73
XXXIII
a thaisce, éist liom
d’fhéadfainn bheith im’ pheata agat
pearóid nó moncaí
nó im’ chaitín ag crónán
do rogha rud ambaist’ – gé
Belovèd, listen
hey, i could be your plaything
parrot or monkey
i could be a purring cat
whatever you like – a goose
Bohumil Kubišta
75
XXXIV
briathra ag eitilt
chun mé a ghoineadh go smior
binneas na Gaeilge
cruas an gharbh-Bhéarla araon
ag filleadh ar a bhfoinse
words are flying back
to pierce me to the marrow
soft words of Irish
rough pointed words of English
fly back to their source in me
Wil l iam Turner
77
XXXV
dhéanfainn mo shlí chugat
trí thost an tsaoil seo, a chuid
is trína challán
is trí dhiminsin aineoil
gan aon anáil a tharraingt
i would make my way
to You through the world’s silence
and through the world’s noise
and through dimensions unknown
and never stopping for breath
Genti le da Fabriano
79
XXXVI
gramadach an ghrá
a fhoghlaim ó thús deireadh
m’aon chúram amháin
cuir scrúdú orm, táim réidh
mé i mo shuí go maidin
to the very end
learning the grammar of love
my only duty
examine me, i’m ready
i have burned the midnight oil
Janos Tornyai
81
XXXVII
d’fhéadfadh gur fíor é
táimse sa tóir ort, a stór
is tusa amhlaidh
agus an mar sin a bheidh
ar feadh na seacht saol abhus
it might well be so
i look for You, Belovèd
and You look for me
and shall it be always thus
for the course of seven births
Ligia Macovei
83
XXXVIII
bheith scuabtha chun siúil
in airde chuig ríocht aineoil
deireadh le gach deighilt
ag súil leis sin atáimid
mór-fhilleadh ar na réaltaí
to be whisked away
taken into unknown spheres
no more divisions
is this what we’re waiting for
the great return to the stars
Edmund Blair Leighton
85
XXXIX
bhíos anseo cheana
ar mo ghlúine anseo romhat
táim dearmadta agat
an t-aistear a chuireas díom
le bheith anseo os do chomhair
i’ve knelt here before
and surely must kneel again
You’ve forgotten me
the long journey i’ve made
to kneel here now before You
Abraham Manievich
87
XL
an chraobh ag feitheamh
b’in mise an t-am ar fad
ní athróidh mé
an chraobh ag súil le préachán
sinn ag tnúth leis an earrach
the branch that awaits
this is what i’ve always been
and so it will be
a branch that awaits a crow
autumn branch awaiting spring
Ştefan Popescu
89
XLI
rinceoirí reoite
na crainn i lár an gheimhridh
a dhamhsaigh duitse
is duitse amháin, a thaisce
nach trua a gcás – nach trua
like frozen dancers
trees in winter: petrified
they have danced for You
and You alone, Belovèd
is theirs not a sorry fate?
Anon
91
XLII
conas teacht ortsa
mura dtiocfainn orm féin
sa triscéil Bhreatnach
tairseach an neamhní, a chuid
ag cur thar maoil gan teorainn
how can i find You
if i cannot find myself
in a Welsh triskele
a portal to nothingness
brimful of borderlessness
Abram Games
93
XLIII
a thaisce, éist liom
ní thagann na focail chugam
ní osclaím mo bhéal
tá an milleán ar an ré
sé an tost a chanann duit
Belovèd, listen
i can no longer form words
or open my mouth
it is the times we live in
the silence it is that sings
Shitao
95
XLIV
éist! comhrá na mbláth
cén fáth nach labhrann tú liom
cén fáth? freagair mé
cloisim a gcuid mionchainte
cad atá á rá acu
listen! flowers converse
why not You and i, dear one
why not? answer me
i overhear their small talk
trying to make sense of it
Bob Law
97
XLV
níl brí le focail
cumfadsa teanga nua dhuit
teanga dúinn beirt
gutaí is mó ’bheidh inti
giolcadh pearóidí glasa
words lose their meaning
i’ll invent a new language
for the two of us
composed mostly of vowels
twittering of green parrots
Nicholas Roerich
99
XLVI
ba é ár gcéad éamh
a bhris an ciúnas bunaidh
táimid á lorg
an tost binn a chailleamar
n’fheadar cár fhágamar é
our very first cry
smashed the primeval silence
now we look for it
such sweet silence we have lost
where could we have mislaid it
Ipolit Strambu
101
XLVII
uair amháin bhí bláth
a d’fhás i nGairdín Éidin
bhíos riamh ar mire
a ansacht, bronnaim ort é
d’fhonn ár mbuile a cheiliúradh
there once was a flower
it sprouted in Paradise
i was always mad
dear One, i give you that flower
to celebrate our frenzy