Gabriel Rosenstock

1. dying winds -
faint mountain path
to a disused church
...

4. with each call
the cuckoo
melts the snow
...

9. somewhere in the fog
the little bell
around the horse's neck
...

14. one crisp sound -
voices of sparrows
dripping of melting snow
...

19. the woodpecker -
first thing at morning -
is a master
...

22. clothes left on the line
have been revived -
pure mountain rain
...

25. talking literature all night
the wine in the glass
becomes still
...

28. chilly morning
an eagle's talon
nailed to the door
...

Tá crónán beach dostoptha ina broinn
Nach múchfar ach i dtonn bháite
Go coim

Seasann an mhaenad sa tsáile
Rud doráite
Ina súile ar déanamh na halmóinne

Gortóidh sobal goirt a pit ata
Ar ball agus gáirfidh sí
Cúbfaidh tonnta óna fraoch

Titfidh líomóidí is oráistí ina mbáisteach
Léimfidh éisc ildathacha
Agus beifear ar fad ar aon dord

Níos déanaí
Nochtfaidh réaltaí as an gciúnas
Faoi mar nár tharla faic
Faoi mar a bheadh an chéad chruthú ann
Fáiscfidh sí smugairle róin lena gabhal
...

luaitear a ainm
agus siúd an crotal coille
ar fud na bhfud

dreacha
sa bhéilteach thine
is dual dóibh siúd athrú, leis

snag breac
ólann lán a ghoib
dá íomhá féin

bonnán ceo
beagán ar bheagán
an domhan ag dul as

margadh na míol in Valparaiso
clogad Gearmánach
is meirg air

ag scinneadh thar ghoirt na maidine
beireann ga gréine
ar mhún an ghiorria

ceobhrán na maidine
piocann colúr
ar aiseag an druncaera

an ghrian os cionn na Himáilithe
ólann mo mhiúil
as an nGainséis

maidin sheaca
nochtann spideog a brollach
don saol Fódlach

éigrit ina seasamh i murlach
éadaí á mbualadh
ar leaca

ag bun na Croise
iompaíonn seilide fuilteach
ina bhúda

gaotha ag éag
cosán tréigthe sléibhe
go dtí an seanséipéal
...

as soon as it's named
the lungwort scatters itself
all over the place

those faces
in the roaring fire
are also fated to change

a single magpie
swallows a beakful
of its reflected self

foghorn
little by little
the world fades away

the flea-market in Valparaiso
a German helmet
is rusting away

skimming morning fields
a sunbeam highlights
a hare's urine

in morning drizzle
a pigeon is picking at
a wino's vomit

the sun above the Himalayas
my mule is drinking
from the Ganges

frosty morning
a robin bares her breast
to the wide world

an egret stands in a lagoon
the squelch of clothes being washed
against slab rocks

at the foot of the Cross
a snail trailing blood
becomes a buddha

the wind abating
a deserted mountain path
to the old chapel
...

osclaím mo dhán do nithe geala
seo isteach oráistí, is caisearbháin,
míle fáilte
suígí síos
is beidh mé libh

tagann isteach im dhán
cuach álainn sneachta ina gob
fáilte

cad seo?
milliún galún gréine

osclaím mo dhán do gach a bhfuil
a mbeidh a raibh
a d'fhéadfadh a bheith
dearúd

seo chugam isteach
seanchat
cos colúir ina bhéal
(chaith a leithéid tarlú)
buail fút
seachain an chuach
tá sneachta ina gob

faigh spás duit féin ansin
idir
oráistí is caisearbháin
cad as a dtáinís chugainn, a sheanchait?
cá bhfuil an chuid eile den cholúr?

osclaím mo dhán do na dúile
idir bheo is mharbh is
tagann eidhneán isteach tugann
sé leis falla
titeann an falla ar an gcat
dán tragóideach é seo
ar shlí

áit éigin ar dhroim an domhain
tá falla ag titim ar chat
ar leanbh

osclaím mo dhán arís do nithe geala
ach níl aon ní fágtha
...

(I)
Liadhain …
Bhí fios agam di.
Mé Cuirithir.
Le Dia a leath dhíom
le Liadhain an leath eile

An leath dhíom ar le Dia í
is seasc, marbh

An leath is Liadhain
is bruithneach

I ndoire sea luíomar le chéile
ba gheall le cnó á oscailt é
is á chur im bhéal
ag crobh cailce dofheicthe

Siolla níor labhair sí
ach nuair a dhún sí a súile
ba léir di an sú
ag éirí sna crainn
gur chuala sásamh ársa na gcraobh

(II)
Nuair a theann sí i bhfolach orm
chím gach áit í

Leanaim scáth an fhia
is an tseabhaic
líontar an doire lena héagmais

(III)
Nuair a dhúisíonn sí ar maidin
féachaim go domhain sna súile aici

Is tobar í
ina bhfeicim mé féin

ólaim asam féin

(IV)
Is í na gaotha í
an mhuir mheann -

An uile ní a chorraíonn
is nach gcorraíonn

Athrú i lár séasúir í
is í na ceithre ráithe í

Lá agus oíche is ea í
oíche agus lá

(V)
Codail anois, codail! Codail, a Liadhain
ar d'adhartán caonaigh, codail go caoin …

Dá bhféadfainn do thumfainn amach id shuan
d'fhonn bheith id thaibhreamhsa, a ghile, go buan.
I gcoim na foraoise is míshuaimhneach don torc
ach codail, is ná bíodh imní ort

(VI)
Féach! Liadhain sa linn
is í ag snámh ar a droim
mirabile visu -
sí an ghealach í
stoirm réaltaí
A Chríost, ná tar i m'aice
A Mhuire Ógh, iompaigh do shúil

(VII)
Chun Dé
ní théann
mo phaidreacha
níos mó
Liadhain Liadhain
ar bharr mo theanga

(VIII)
A cruth sa scamall
a gáire san aiteall
dathanna a hanama is ea
an bogha síne

(IX)
Rógheal í mo chumann
mé im ghráinneog
a dhúisíonn maidin earraigh róluath
goineann an solas mo shúile

(X)
Tormán easa i gcéin
ní stadann
scíth ní ghlacann
mo dhála féin
cúr mo bhriathra
san aer
blais de

(XI)
‘Liadhain! Liadhain!' ag an abhainn dubh
‘Liadhain!' an chuach sa ghleann
an maighre méith scairteann ‘Liadhain!'
‘Liadhain! Liadhain!' ag an eilit sheang

(XII)
Cíorann leoithní a folt án drúchtmhar
mé in éad leis na dúile …

(XIII)
Ach do shéid ina anfa oighreata
leagadh daracha
reoigh an scol i ngob an loin
bhúir tonnta uile Éireann

(XIV)
Níor liom mé féin níos mó
níor liomsa Liadhain ná a háineas
nocht Críost A chréachtaí -
ar mo shonsa, leis, a céasadh É.

(XV)
Ar leac seo m'urnaithe a chaillfear Liadhain
is mise i gcríochaibh aineoil

(XVI)
A Dhé! Tabhair le chéile arís sinn
naisc sinn - achainím ort - ar feadh aon oíche amháin
i bParthas róshoilseach na naomh
...

(I)
Liadhain…
Knowledge flowed between us.
I am Cuirithir.
God goes halves in me
with Liadhain

God's share
is sterile, lifeless,

Liadhain's
boils me alive

We lay together among oaks
it was like a nut being shelled
and placed in my mouth
by a creamy, invisible hand

She said nothing at all
but when she closed her eyes
she could see the sap
rising in trees,
hear the old fulfilment of branches

(II)
When she hides from me
I see her everywhere

I follow the deer's shadow
and the hawk's
her absence flits among the oaks

(III)
When she wakes in the morning
I look deep into her eyes

She is a well
that reflects me

I drink of myself

(IV)
She is all winds,
the middle of all seas -

Everything that moves
and does not

She is a change in season,
all the months of the year

She is day and night,
night and day

(V)
Sleep now, sleep! Sleep, Liadhain,
on your mossy pillow, sleep easy …

If I could, I would dive far into your sleep,
to be forever, bright one, part of your dream.
In the middle of the forest, the boar is restless,
but sleep now, easy in yourself

(VI)
Look! Liadhain in the pool,
swimming on her back
mirabile visu -
she is moon,
a star-filled storm
Christ, do not approach me.
Virgin Mary, avert your eye

(VII)
My prayers
don't go
anymore
to God
Liadhain, Liadhain,
on the tip of my tongue

(VIII)
Her shape in the clouds,
her laugh between showers,
the rainbow
her soul's colours

(IX)
My beloved is dazzling.
I'm like a hedgehog
waking too early on a spring morning
light hurts my eyes

(X)
A waterfall thunders far off
without pause
there's no relief
from the way things are
my words are foam
in air
taste it

(XI)
‘Liadhain! Liadhain!' murmurs the dark river,
‘Liadhain!' calls the cuckoo in the valley
the plump salmon shouts out ‘Liadhain!'
‘Liadhain! Liadhain!' cries the slender doe

(XII)
Breezes comb her dewy hair.
I am envious of elements

(XIII)
But an icy blast rose,
uprooting the oaks
the blackbird's whistle froze in its beak
all the waves of Ireland wailed

(XIV)
My own self I had lost,
lost Liadhain and her merrymaking
Christ bared his wounds -
for me, also, He was crucified

(XV)
On this, my slab of supplication, Liadhain will perish,
and I in unknown territories

(XVI)
Dear God! Bring us together again
Couple us - I beg you - for just one night
in the splendid Paradise of saints
...

De dheasca na gcleití snáithíneacha aige
ní chloistear an ceann cait ar a thriall
ní fios cad as dá sheol
ní heol cá bhfuil a chuairt
is líontar le huamhan iad
feithidí is lucha na coillearnaí
roimh ghob, roimh chrobh seo na hoíche

Mar ulchabhán do thriall chugam
go taibhseach
gach oíche
ag piocadh asam -
dúisím de phreib
is ní bhíonn aon ní ann
aon ní in aon chor ag stánadh orm
ach iarracht de chuimhne éiginnte
ar bhlas póige
a éagann ar eite
ar an ngaoth
...

The streamlined feathers of the owl
ensure the silence of its approach,
a silent glide between
one unknown and another
and the woodland mice and insects
are filled with terror
before this beak, this claw of the night.

Like an owl you come to me
spectrally
nightly
tearing at me -
I waken, abruptly
and there is nothing
nothing at all staring at me
only the confused memory
of a kiss
gliding into obscurity
on the wind.
...