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