Poem
Gabriel Rosenstock
LIADHAIN
(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
© Translation: 2006, Paddy Bushe
From: Rosenstock – selected poems
From: Rosenstock – selected poems
Liadhain
Liadhain
(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
© 2006, Gabriel Rosenstock
From: Rogha Dánta
Publisher: Clò Iar-Chonnachta Galway,
From: Rogha Dánta
Publisher: Clò Iar-Chonnachta Galway,
Poems
Poems of Gabriel Rosenstock
Close
LIADHAIN
(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
© 2006, Paddy Bushe
From: Rosenstock – selected poems
From: Rosenstock – selected poems
LIADHAIN
(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
© 2006, Paddy Bushe
From: Rosenstock – selected poems
From: Rosenstock – selected poems
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