“Is dócha go ndéanann a lán daoine glandearmad ar na bandéithe úd a thug a n-ainm naofa don tír seo, Éire, Banba, Fódla. Adhradh an bhandé an creideamh is ársa amuigh, seans. Éinne a léifeadh *The White Goddess *le Robert Graves, chífeadh sé láithreach gur cuid dár n-oidhreacht is ea ómós a thabhairt don bhandia.

Cuid lárnach de thírdhreach beannaithe na hÉireann is ea an bandia - ní gá duit ach féachaint ar an Dá Chích i gCiarraí.

D’fhéadfá dánta bhakti *a thabhairt ar na dánta seo, ar shlí. Is é is *bhakti ann ná filíocht dheabhóideach a tháinig chun cinn san India, díreach faoi mar a tháinig Amhráin na nDaoine chun cinn in Éirinn. Ní dhéantar dánta Aogáin Uí Rathaile a aithris i bpubanna na hÉireann ach cinnte cantar “Tá Mé i mo Shuí”, “Dónall Óg” agus mar sin de. Sa tslí chéanna, cantar dánta agus amhráin an bhanfhile Mirabai ar fud na hIndia go dtí an lá inniu – ach ní hé “Dónall Óg” ná a mhacasamhail a tháinig idir Mirabai agus codladh na hoíche ach Krishna.

I ndeireadh na dála, áfach, níl sa dia ná sa bhandia ata á adhradh ag an mbhakta (i bhfilíocht bhakti) ach an duine féin, is é sin le rá gur féintóraíocht is ea é ó thús deireadh, breith ar ghile na gile is anam an uile dhuine againn.”

As aer glan As aer glan a tháinís As spéir íon Ár mbeatha As tobar ár ndúile D’éirim á brú orm go fíochmhar Níl dóthain nóimintí sa lá Nocht Tú féin Do bheola As a séideann Teangacha lasracha Mo dháin

From clear air You came from clear air Pure sky Of our being Wellspring of desire Your fierce intelligence pressing on me There are not enough minutes to the day Show Yourself Your lips From which issue The flaming tongues Of my poem

Cosnochta Tá an ghealach ina luí ar a droim Glan ar meisce Coimeádann sí na héin ina ndúiseacht I dteanga iasachta atá a ngiob geab Sníonn abhainn airgeadúil in aghaidh na fána, Iompraíonn scáil na sceiche gile léi, Taoi amuigh ag siúl, ní foláir, cosnochta

Barefoot The moon lies on her back Mad drunk Keeping birds awake They chat in a foreign tongue A silvery river flows up the slope Bearing with it the reflection of a fairy bush You must be out walking, in Your bare feet

Iomann Is Tú an neantóg Is Tú an chopóg Is Tú an phian Is tú an balsam Is Tú an scáth Is Tú an ghrian Is Tú an oíche a chlúdaíonn iad go léir Is eol Duitse go cruinn Cathain a stopfaidh na héin dá n-iomann Is nuair a thosnóidh arís Mar i gciúnas do chroí Is Tú a chéadchum

Hymn You are the nettle You the dockleaf You the pain You the balm You the shade You the sun Night that cloaks all You know precisely When birds must cease their hymn And when it will start all over again: In the silence of Your heart It was first composed

Fuath Iad siúd a dhónn ola an mheáin oíche Is fuath leo na briathra so gan dua Ach táimse beag beann ar a mbeannachtaí Is ar a mallachtaí Níor chuas-sa ar thóir na héigse buile Is Tusa a tháinig do mo lorg As mo thnúth a nochtais chugam

Hatred Those who burn the midnight oil Hate these effortless words But what to me their blessings Or their maledictions? I did not seek out this crazy poetry It was You who came to me Out of my desire You were moulded

Is údar agus aistritheoir é Gabriel Rosenstock agus eagarthóir leis an nGúm i mBaile Átha Cliath. Foilsíodh a leabhar taistil, *Ólann mo Mhiúil as an nGainséis (Cló Iar-Chonnachta) in 2003, an cnuasach dánta Krishnamurphy ambaist’ (Coiscéim) in 2004 agus Nasrúidín in 2005.*

Gluais • Glossary

bandéithegoddesses

adhradh an bhandéthe worship of the goddess

is ársamost ancient

dár n-oidhreachtof our heritage

ómósreverence

tírdhreach beannaithehallowed landscape

filíocht dheabhóideachdevotional poetry

a aithristo recite

féintóraíochtsearching for ones self