2017-09-23

TÍR TAIRNGIRE: TIONSCADAL BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN THE PROMISED LAND: THE BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN PROJECT

Tá cáil i bhfad agus i ngearr ar Bruce Springsteen. Tá clú ar a bheoléirithe paiseanta agus is cumadóir amhrán thar na bearta é. Baineann sé leas as ceol rithim agus gormacha, snagcheol, luath-racanról, ceol tíre agus soul. Cruthaíonn a chuid liricí rómánsacha fileata íomhánna dúinn de shaol na cosmhuintire, tírdhreacha uirbeacha New Jersey agus réigiúin láir Mheiriceá.

Tabharfaidh TÍR TAIRNGIRE:TIONSCADAL BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN ar aistear sinn, ar imram, go dtí 'tír tairngire' an amhránaí chun na físeanna aige a bhlaiseadh ó albaim ar nós Darkness on the Edge of Town, Nebraska agus The Ghost of Tom Joad. Is iad na hoirfidigh atá i mbun an aistir seo ná Liam Ó Maonlaí, guth agus pianó; Steve Cooney ar ghiotár, Nick Roth ar shacs; Robbie Perry i mbun cnaguirlisí agus Trevor Hutchinson ar dhord. Gabriel Rosenstock  a thraschruthaigh na liricí. Margaret Lonergan a theilgfidh a cuid íomhánna agus na focail ar scáileán. Arna léiriú ag IMRAM Féile Litríochta Gaeilge.

Bruce Springsteen is legendary. Famed for his passionate live performances, he is a songwriter par excellence. His work taps into rhythm and blues, jazz, early rock 'n' roll, folk and soul. His romantic, poetic lyrics evoke the lives of working people, the urban landscapes of New Jersey, and the heartlands of contemporary America.

THE PROMISED LAND: THE BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN PROJECT takes us on a voyage to the 'promised land' of Springsteen's vision, drawing on albums such as Darkness on the Edge of Town, Nebraska and The Ghost of Tom Joad. The line-up features Liam Ó Maonlaí on vocals and piano; Steve Cooney on guitar; Nick Roth on saxophone; Robbie Perry on percussion and Trevor Hutchinson on bass. The lyrics have been translated into Irish by Gabriel Rosenstock. Screen projections by Margaret Lonergan. Produced by IMRAM Irish Literature Festival.


DÉ CEADAOIN 11 DEIREADH FÓMHAIR
Wednesday 11 October 8.00pm
PAVILION THEATRE, Dún Laoghaire
Cead isteach/admission: €22/20
Booking (01) 231 2929
or www.paviliontheatre.ie

Bímis Dlúth (Cneas re Cneas)


Bímis Dlúth (Cneas re Cneas)

Táim ag faire ort ‘feadh i bhfad
Cén t-am ab fhearr cén áit, dar leat
Sinn ag teannadh linn ‘nois gan stad
Agus d’fhéadfaimis seans a bheith cneas re cneas

Ní fios an dtiocfaidh an seans arís
Níl craic ar bith amuigh ansin gan a chríoch
Ní fios an dtiocfaidh an seans arís
Níl craic ar bith nach n-imeoidh i ndísc
Bímis dlúth, dlúth le chéile, [a] mhian.

Sea táimid éagsúil, tá a ghrá
Ní hionann é ár leagan siúil
Is stair a bhfuil laistiar dínn caithfear a rá
Yé, cuir focal i mo chluas.

Ní fios an dtiocfaidh an seans arís
Níl craic ar bith amuigh ansin gan a chríoch
Ní fios an dtiocfaidh an seans arís
Níl craic ar bith nach n-imeoidh i ndísc
Bímis dlúth, dlúth le chéile, [a] mhian.

Dú, dú dú dúú dú dú dú dúú
Dú, dú dú dúú dú dú dú du dúú
Dú, dú dú dúú dú dú dú dúú
Bímis dlúth
Dú, dú dú dúú dú dú dú dúú
Dú, dú dú dúú dú dú dú dúú
Bímis dlúth . . .

Bhuel tá caint go leor mar gheall ort
Lig dóibh labhairt, níl éinne eile ach tú
Tá ballaí go leor le leagan fós
D’fhéadfaimisne iad a leagan, ceann ar cheann.

Ní fios an dtiocfaidh an seans arís
Níl craic ar bith amuigh ansin gan a chríoch
Ní fios an dtiocfaidh an seans arís
Níl craic ar bith nach n-imeoidh i ndísc
Bímis dlúth, dlúth le chéile, [a] mhian.

Let's Be Friends (Skin to Skin)

I been watchin' you a long time
Trying to figure out where and when
We been moving down that same line
Time is now maybe we could get skin to skin

Don't know when this chance might come again
Good times got a way of comin' to an end
Don't know when this chance might come again
Good times got a way of slippin' a-way
Let's be friends, baby let's be friends

I know we're different you and me
Got a different way of walkin'
The time has come to let the past be history
Yeah if we could just start talkin'

Don't know when this chance might come again
Good things got a way of comin' to an end
Don't know when this chance might come again
Good things got a way of slippin' away
Let's be friends, baby let's be friends

Do, do do doo do do do doo
Do, do do doo do do do do doo
Do, do do doo do do do doo
Let's be friends
Do, do do doo do do do doo
Do, do do doo do do do doo
Let's be friends

There's a lot of talk going 'round you
Let them talk you know you're the only one
There's a lot of walls need tearing down
Together we could take them down one by one

Don't know when this chance might come again
Good times got a way of comin' to an end
Don't know when this chance might come again
Good times got a way of slippin' away
Let's be friends, baby let's be friends

2017-09-22

Deich nDán Zen le Ramesh Bhagvant Veluskar

1.
Braonta báistí
Ata
Ar theagmhaigh an spéir leo
Seo ag rince anuas iad
Báite
Ar nós
Páistí dána


2.
Eitleog
Bheag bhídeach
Ag an mbuaic ghorm
An fhirmimint
Ar cóimheá aici ar a cabhail
Ar nós faic na fríde
Eitleog



3.
Catsúil
Á leá i gcatsúil
Cumhracht uaithi
Ar nós gáire . . .
Ar dhlaoithe deataigh
Ceangailte le gungrúnna*
Ina gcaise
Slogtha ag raga ornáideach

 

[* bráisléad rúitín ceolmhar ar rinceoir]


5.
An chéad uair
A theagmhaíos leat
Scuabadh
Chun siúil

Ar
Nós
Súnámaí



7.
Déanann grágaíl
An phréacháin cá cá
An dorchadas
A scoilteadh
Roimh mhaidneachan


8.
Mhuirnigh
An spéirling mé
Istigh is amuigh
Agus
Ní raibh póir díom
Gan brí nua



9
Néalta ag spraoi
Agus ina gceann
Is ina gceann is ina gceann
Bhuail duilleoga na foraoise
A gcuid ciombal clingeach


11.
Ise
Nathair
Chomh haoibhinn
Le nóta
Taan*
Na fliúite
Casta
Meisciúil
Ríméadach
Mistiúil
 

[* teicníc amhránaíochta]




21.
Braon drúchta
Tréshoilseach
Athraonta isteach
Im mhóimintse


22.
D’fhiafraigh an spéir di féin,
“An
Beith


Neamhbheith?


 

Bunteanga: Concáinis

[ó Bhéarla Augusto Pinto]

Breis faoin bhfile:


2017-09-21

Atlantic City


Bhuel phléascadar an ‘chicken man’ in Philly aréir
Phléascadar an tigh, arú
Ar an gclárchosán tá scata trodairí ‘fáil réidh
Tá an mafia go léir ‘g ullmhú.

Is tá trioblóid ag teacht chugainn ó stróinséirí
Is an D.A. ag lorg sóláis
Beidh ina chíor thuathail cheart ar an bpromanáid
An coimisiún cearrbhachais chun a chac a dhéanamh ina dhrárs.

Sea bhuel cailltear gach ní, béibí, gan aon bhréag
Ach cá bhfios nach dtagann ar ais gach ní ón éag
Cuir do smideadh ort, do chuid gruaige fite
Is buail liom anocht in Atlantic City.

Bhuel do fuaireas post is chuireas pinginí i leataobh
Ach tá fiacha orm nach mbeadh ar fhear iontaoibh’
Tharraingíos amach a raibh sa Central Trust
Is cheannaíos dhá thicéad ar an Coast City Bus.

Bhuel cailltear gach ní, béibí, gan aon bhréag
Ach cá bhfios nach dtagann ar ais gach ní ón éag
Cuir do smideadh ort, do chuid gruaige fite
Is buail liom anocht in Atlantic City.

Bhuel tá deireadh le hádh agus d’fhuaraigh ár ngrá
Ach fanfaidh mé leatsa go deo
Seo linn amach mar tá ór ar an trá
Sea cuir ort do stocaí, béibí , tá an oíche ag reo.

Is cailltear gach aon ní seans, gan aon bhréag
Ach cá bhfios nach dtagann ar ais gach ní ón éag

Hú hú

Bhuel tá post á lorg agam ach deacair a fháil
Níl ach buaiteoir is cailliúnaí ann, agus ná bí id’ sheasamh lasmuigh den Pháil,
Bhuel táim bréan de bheith fágtha arís is arís
Sea, a stór, bhuaileas leis an mboc seo, is táim chun gar beag a dhéanamh dó, sin sin.

Bhuel ‘s dócha cailltear gach ní, béibí, gan aon bhréag
Ach cá bhfios nach dtagann ar ais gach ní ón éag
Cuir do ghruaig in ord is gach rud fite
Is buail liom anocht in Atlantic City.
Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City
Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City
Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City
Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City
Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City
Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City
Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City
Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City

Atlantic City

Well they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night
Now they blew up his house too
Down on the boardwalk they're getting ready for a fight
Gonna see what them racket boys can do

Now there's trouble busting in from outta state
And the D.A. can't get no relief
Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade
And the gambling commissions hanging on by the skin of its teeth

Well now everything dies baby that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City

Well I got a job and tried to put my money away
But I got debts that no honest man can pay
So I drew what I had from the Central Trust
And I bought us two tickets on that Coast City bus

Now baby everything dies baby that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City

Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold
But with you forever I'll stay
We're going out where the sand's turning to gold
So put on your stockings, baby, 'cause the night's getting cold

And maybe everything dies, that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back

Hoo hoo

Now I've been looking for a job but it's hard to find
Down here it's just winners and losers and don't get caught on the wrong side of that line
Well I'm tired of coming out on this losing end
So honey last night I met this guy and I'm gonna do a little favor for him

Well I guess everything dies baby that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your hair up nice and set up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City

2017-09-20

Graifítí an Lae

Mura dtagann athrú radacach ar an duine, claochlú bunúsach á chur i bhfeidhm aige air féin, táimid chun sinn féin a mhilleadh. D'fhéadfadh réabhlóid shíceolaíoch a bheith anois againn, ní i gceann míle bliain. Tugadh na mílte bliain dúinn agus is barbaraigh sinn i gcónaí. Mar sin, mura n-athraímid anois, beimid fós inár mbarbaraigh amárach agus i gceann míle amárach eile.

J. Krishnamurti (1896 - 1986)

2017-09-19

Foraideallaí


Oíche chiúin agus oíche an-fhliuch
Mé fá shuan, mé chomh ciúin le luch
Seo chugainn an boc a chuir an ruaig orainn
Bhuel, arbh é sin an forairdeallaí?

Aimsir gharbh, an t-am againn á mheilt
Sea, codladh ‘fháil i mball teolaí
Agus tháinig póilín, bhí sé in am sinn fhéin a cheilt
Hé, arbh é sin an forairdeallaí?

Bhuel abair cén fáth a n-iompraíonn sé é
Abair cén fáth a n-iompraíonn sé é
An gránghunna teasctha sin ina lámh’
A chomhdhaonnaí a leagan ar lár, an forairdeallaí, sea cén fáth?
Whoa!

Bhuel, seo ag fánaíocht mé, yé, ó áit go háit
Yé, seo ag fánaíocht mé, mmm, ó áit go háit,
Yé, is níl aon oidhre orainn, ach radharc éigin as an Táin,
‘Dhé
Arbh é sin d’fhorairdeallaí ?

Bhuel abair cén fáth a n-iompraíonn sé é
Sea cén fáth a n-iompraíonn sé é
Bata ár mbuailte ’na lámh’
An leagfadh sé fear ionraic ar lár, an forairdeallaí, sea cén fáth?

Wú, ó
Ó ó ó á
Wú, ó ó
Ó ó ó ó, ó
Wú, ó ó
Wú, ó ó á
Wú ó, á, á
Wú ó, á á.

Vigilante Man

Rainy night down in the engine house
Sleepin' just, just as still as a mouse
A man came along and chase us out in the rain
Well was that a vigilante man?

Stormy days, we pass the time away
Yeah, sleeping in some good warm place
And a cop come along, and we give him a little race
Say was that a vigilante man?

Well tell me why does a vigilante man
Tell me why does a vigilante man
Carry that sawed off shotgun in his hands
To shoot his brothers and sisters down, that no good vigilante man
Whoa!

Well, I ramble around, yeah, from town to town
Yeah, I ramble around, mm, from town to town
Yeah and they run us around like a wild herd of cattle, lord
Is that your vigilante man?

Well now why does that vigilante man
Why does that vigilante man
Carry that club in his hands
Would he beat an innocent man down, that no good vigilante man?

Whoo, ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ah
Whoo, ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh
Whoo, ooh ooh
Whoo, ooh ooh ah
Whoo ooh, ah, ah
Whoo ooh, aaah ah

2017-09-18

Deamhain is Cré

Deamhain is Cré

Tá mo mhéar agam ar an truicear
Ach níl muinín agam as éinn’
Nuair a fhéachaim ort sna súil’
Níl ach deamhain is cré.
Táimid i bhfad ón seanfhód, Bobbie
Tá an baile i bhfad i gcéin
Braithim gaoth shalach ag séideadh
Deamhain is cré.

Tá Dia le mo thaobh
Is mé ag iarraidh teacht slán
Ach más é is brí le teacht slán
Teacht salach ar ghrá
Rud an-láidir uamhan, béibí,
Agus dubhaíonn an croí, sin é é,
Tógfaidh d’anam diaga
Le líonadh le deamhain is cré.

Bhuel, bhí taibhreamh a’m aréir
Do bhí fuil is cloch’ gach áit
An fhuil do thriomaigh sí
Is boladh ag éirí
Bhuel bhí taibhreamh agam fút, Bobbie
I ngort na láibe is na gcnámh
An fhuil do thriomaigh sí
Is an boladh ag éirí.

Tá Dia lenár dtaobh
Is sinn ag iarraidh teacht slán
Ach más é is brí le teacht slán
Teacht salach ar ghrá
Rud an-láidir uamhan, béibí,
Agus dubhaíonn an croí, sin é é,
Tógfaidh d’anam diaga
Le líonadh le deamhain is cré.

Níl aon bhean ar domhan ná fear ar bith
Nach mian leo seasamh leis an gceart
Faigh an grá atá Uaidh
Is an creideamh is an neart
Tá mo mhéar agam ar an truicear
Is anocht táim imithe ar strae
Nuair a fhéachaimse im’ chroí
Níl ach deamhain is cré.

Bhuel, tá Dia le mo thaobh
Is mé ag iarraidh teacht slán
Ach más é is brí le teacht slán
Teacht salach ar ghrá
Rud an-láidir uamhan, béibí,
Agus dubhaíonn an croí, sin é é,
Tógfaidh d’anam diaga
Le líonadh le deamhain is cré.
Yé, tógfaidh d’anam diaga
Le líonadh le deamhain is cré.

Devils and Dust

I got my finger on the trigger
But I don't know who to trust
When I look into your eyes
There's just devils and dust
We're a long, long way from home, Bobbie
Home's a long, long way from us
I feel a dirty wind blowing
Devils and dust

I got God on my side
And I'm just trying to survive
What if what you do to survive
Kills the things you love
Fear's a powerful thing, baby
It can turn your heart black you can trust
It'll take your God filled soul
And fill it with devils and dust

Well I dreamed of you last night
In a field of blood and stone
The blood began to dry
The smell began to rise
Well I dreamed of you last night, Bobbie
In a field of mud and bone
Your blood began to dry
And the smell began to rise

We've got God on our side
We're just trying to survive
What if what you do to survive
Kills the things you love
Fear's a powerful thing, baby
It'll turn your heart black you can trust
It'll take your God filled soul
Fill it with devils and dust
It'll take your God filled soul
Fill it with devils and dust

Now every woman and every man
They wanna take a righteous stand
Find the love that God wills
And the faith that He commands
I've got my finger on the trigger
And tonight faith just ain't enough
When I look inside my heart
There's just devils and dust

Well I've got God on my side
And I'm just trying to survive
What if what you do to survive
Kills the things you love
Fear's a dangerous thing
It can turn your heart black you can trust
It'll take your God filled soul
Fill it with devils and dust
Yeah it'll take your God filled soul
Fill it with devils and dust