1949/Irish Born in Kilfinane, Co. Limerick in 1949, Gabriel Rosenstock studied at University College Cork, where he associated with the Innti group of poets. He has written or translated more than 100 books, principally in Irish. Rogha Rosenstock, a selection from 1
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
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
The Universe expands for ever As does the Heart Plunging these melting words Into the Heart-Universe They no longer have a centre Burningly I desired Your Being Now our nature is released throughout infinity
Ag síorleathnú atá an Chruinne Is amhlaidh don Chroí Tumaimse na briathra leáite ******>Sa Chroí-Chruinne Níl aon lár acu a thuilleadh Bhí do Nádúrsa uaim Go dóite is go hiomlán Scaoiltear ár ndúchas ar fud na síoraíochta
From each and every pore look how the sun beams On Your eternal dance The dark side of the moon is bright If You open Your mouth Stars will escape and chant their hymns for You You are they Swiftly swans fly backwards How can I imagine Your embrace Without exploding in Your galaxy?
As gach póir Díot
As gach póir Díot scallann an ghrian Ar Do dhamhsa gan chríoch Taobh dorcha na gealaí is geal Má osclaíonn Tú Do bhéal Éalóidh réaltaí, canfaidh iomainn Duit Is Tusa iadsan Ealaí ag eitilt go gasta ar gcúl Conas a shamhlóinn barróg Uait Mura bpléascfainn Id réaltbhuíon?
Why not envision a new eco-poetics grounded in a heritage thousands of years old which upholds that everything in the universe is sacred? Francisco X. Alarcón
Space, time and Borges now are leaving me … J L Borges
The progress of an artist is a continual self-sacrifice, a continual extinction of the personality. T S Eliot
One does not often think of the tripartite goddess who gave her blessed name to Ireland - Éire, Banba, Fódla - not to mention other goddesses who have left their trace on the landscape, Danu of the Paps of Danu for instance.
Devotional poetry in India goes by the name of bhakti. In the heel of the hunt, a bhakta does not really adore or pine for any god or goddess; as with Mirabai’s love affair with Krishna, or Muktabai singing her own glistening Self; what is sought and what is praised is the brightness of eternal brightness, our shared Self, knowing neither birth nor death.
Some words in this poem sequence are ‘shaded’ to allow for another reading of a line, or a faint echo, a game much cherished by the Celtic poets of yore. Thus, the reader sees the word as the world when written as world and encounters bhakti invocations such as ma (mother) hidden in the word mad!