2018-01-23

Aubade

Aubade

Dúisíonn tú is sleamhnaíonn tú go ciúin as an seomra,
an doras á dhúnadh agat i do dhiaidh. Mo shúile druidte,
beirim ar do philiúrsa is mé ag súil
le boladh éigin a fháil ó chumracht rúnda do cholainne.

Ní raibh greim chomh docht riamh agam ort
is atá anois is tú as láthair,
ach cuachann tú nuachtán na maidine le d'ucht
sa chistin is tae agat á shlogadh siar.

Aubade

You wake up and slip quietly out of the room,
shutting the door behind you. Eyes closed,
I clasp your pillow in hopes of smelling out
the faintest trace of your body’s secret perfume.

Never before have I held you more closely
than I hold you now in your absence,
but you hug the morning paper to your chest
in the kitchen and wash it down with a cup of tea.

R. Parthasarathy

2018-01-22

Gairdín Gheitséamainí

Kon Markogiannis
i ngach aon bhall
den chruinne seo . . .
Gairdín Gheitséamainí
in every corner
of this world . . .
Garden of Gethsemane
σε κάθε γωνιά
αυτού του κόσμου...
Κήπος της Γεθσημανή

Leagan Gréigise: Sarah Thilykou

2018-01-21

Graifítí an Lae

faic istigh
faic amuigh
faic

nothing inside
nothing outside
nothing

2018-01-20

Paidir

Paidir


Bronn orm an neart chun breathnú ort, gile
na gréine a fhulaingt;
an neart chun rabhadh a thabhairt do longa i gcéin
lem' dhrumadóireacht, a bheith im' phéarladóir,
traein bhréige a thiomáint,
teacht slán as gorta,
íocshláinte a bhaint as trilseáin
an enfant femme.
Bronn orm, uair amháin eile, seachmall.
Agus bíodh is nach Sócraitéas ar bith mé,
bronn orm fís éisteachta, chun go snámhfainn
i sruthanna thírdhreacha na bhfilí Francacha,
iad leath ar oscailt, ar snámh i mo chuid fola.

Bronn orm aibítir
an eitleáin agus na cathrach
a ligfeadh dom suí taobh le seanmháthair chríonna.
Bronn orm arís eile dréimire
mar sheachmall
chun go ndreapfainn Chugatsa,
chugamsa.

Prabodh Parikh


Prayer

Grant me the strength to look at you, to bear the radiance
of the sun;
the strength to alert faraway ships by my drumbeats,
to be a pearl diver,
to drive a toy-train,
to survive a famine,
to extract the magic potion from the tresses
of the enfant femme.
Grant me, once more, an illusion.
And though I am no Socrates,
grant me the vision to hear, to swim
in the currents of the landscapes of French poets
which, half-open, float away in my blood.

Grant me an alphabet
of airplane and city,
which would let me sit by an ageing grandmother.
Grant me, once more, the illusion
of a ladder
to climb to You,
to me.

Prabodh Parikh


2018-01-19

Abdul Sotalach

Abdul Sotalach

Samhlaigh sotal Abdul bhoicht:
Arsa Abdul bocht: 'Bead i m'fhear mór lá breá éigin.'
Arsa Abdul bocht: 'Raghaidh mé ar scoil.'
Arsa Abdul bocht: 'Íosfaidh mé go dtí go mbeidh mé lán.'
Arsa Abdul bocht: 'Is mian liom a bheith saor'.
Arsa Abdul bocht: 'Is fuath liom an ricseá a tharraingt.'
Arsa Abdul bocht: 'Is fuath liom ragobair.'
Arsa Abdul bocht: 'Ní maith liom na saoistí ag tabhairt amach dom.'
Arsa Abdul bocht: 'Ní maith liom obair gan phá.'
Samhlaigh sotal Abdul bhoicht,
a liacht sin éileamh aige, ainneoin é a bheith beo bocht.

Rahul Rai


Cocky Abdul

Just imagine the cockiness of poor Abdul:
Poor Abdul says – “I'll be a big man one day.”
Poor Abdul says – “I'll go to school.”
Poor Abdul says – “I'll eat till I am full.”
Poor Abdul says – “I want to be free.”
Poor Abdul says – “I hate pulling the rickshaw.”
Poor Abdul says – “I hate overtime.”
Poor Abdul says – “I don’t like being scolded by the babus.”
Poor Abdul says – “I hate unpaid work.”
Just imagine the cockiness of poor Abdul,
so many demands, despite being poor.

Rahul Rai

Tá an bunleagan Hindi le léamh anseo

2018-01-18

as an Muttollayiram

Féach ar dhoirse na sráide seo!
Insí ídithe orthu go léir.
Máithreacha á síordhúnadh
iníonacha á síoroscailt.
Tarlaíonn sé sin
aon uair a dtagann an prionsa Kothai,
bláthfhleasca úra á gcaitheamh aige,
ar muin capaill láidir:
síos an tsráid leis
is na cailíní sceitimíneacha
amach leo chun radharc a fháil air.


File anaithnid, ca 9 CE

2018-01-17

Tá na Crainn gan Bhraon Báistí

Arvolés Yoran Por Luvias

Arvolés yoran por luvias
I muntanyas por ayres.
Ansí yoran los mis ojos
Por ti, kerid' amante.
Ansí yoran los mis ojos
Por ti, kerid' amante.

[Torno i digo ke va ser de mí.
En tierras ajenas yo me vo morir].

Blanka sos, blanka vistes,
Blanka la tu figura,
Blankas flores kaen de ti,
De la tu ermozura.

Tá na Crainn gan Bhraon Báistí

Tá na crainn gan bhraon báistí
Is na sléibhte ‘lorg aeir.
Ó mo dhá shúil deora ag titim
Is tú a chuir ag gol iad.
Ó mo dhá shúil deora ag titim
Is tú a chuir ag gol iad.

[Fillim is deirim, cad tá i ndán dom,
I dtír éigin iasachta, an bás i ndán dom.]

Tá tú bán, do ghúna bán,
Mílítheach ó bhun go barr
Blátha bána ag titim díot
Blátha na fíor-áilleachta.