"agus" poems
36 Ang ikatlong pagsubok ay palamangan
Ng mga lamang-dagat na pahulihan
37 Paramihan sa tingin
Pabigatan sa timbangin
38 Ito ang pagsubok na itinadhana
Para sa magigng prinsipe sa tuwina
39 Sinasabing diwata’y tumutulong
Sa sinumang may pinkamaraming naikukulong
40 Sa kanilang lambat na inilalatag
Sa mga alon na sa dagat papag
41 Magsisimula ang hamon kapag umaga’y lumitaw
Magtatapos sa paglubog ng araw
42 Nang sabay-sabay bumalik ang tatlong lalaki
Si Agus ang may pinakamarami at mabigat na huli.
-06/24/2012
*Gintong Lupa Series
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 10:02 PM UTC
AS GAEILGE
( In Irish )
Dún do shúile
(Close your eyes)
Codail go lá...mo ghrá séimh.
(Sleep until day...my gentle love) .
Codail go sámh go sámh.
(Sleep peacefully...peacefully) .
Éirdeoidh an ghealach seo...
...is rachaidh an ghrian seo faoi
(This moon will rise...
...this sun will set)
aire 'gus grá
i gconaí
(care and love always)
gach oíche 's gach lá
gach lá 's gach oíche.
(every night every day
every day ever night) .
Mo phlúirín!
Mo stóirín!
Mo mhuirnín!
(My little flower!
My little treasure!
My little darling!)
Ach anois...
(But now...)
codail go sámh go séimh
(sleep peacefully...gently)
go fáinne an lae
(until the break of day)
le mise
ar do taobh.
(with me
by your side) .
Losing our baby
late into the night
holding this little thing
that only attempted to be human
unable to let go
I clasped the foetus
tightly in my hand
& buried it in the dawn
of our local park
under a recently planted
red rose bush.
In my grief
flower & baby
became one
and night after night I climbed
over high railings & even higher stars
to talk to her in the dark in Irish.
Or sing: My Love is like a Red Red Rose.
Or cry...or...cry.
Almost got arrested one night
by an Irish cop
drawn to the sound
of Irish emerging from darkness.
Guess he let me go because - it wouldn’t look good
on a charge sheet:
“The defendant was talking
& crying to...a flower.”
- in Irish.
Eist...eist
(listen...listen)
duinne eagin ag caoineadh
(someone is crying)
in a dorchasan
(in his darkness) .
Fill...fill...a run o!
Fill a run o is na imigh uaim.
Fill orm a chuisle a stor
agus chifeadh tu an gloire... ma fhillean tu!
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 1:41 PM UTC
A daisy picked for You
Such a massive sun
I was blinded
But the petals healed me
In time
Your joyous limbs
One by one
Nóinín a phiocas
Nóinín a phiocas Duit
Agus ba ghrian chomh millteach sin é
Gur dalladh mé
Ach chneasaigh na piotail
I gceann na haimsire mé
Do ghéaga áthasacha
Ina gceann is ina gceann
4.2k
Overdevelopment in Bali
The Farmers lose valuable water
For use in the hotels
The mushrooming developments have clogged irrigation channels
To rice fields inland,
Often driving them up and driving up the cost of tending the land
The shrinking amount of land available
Has threatened Bali's self-sufficiency in rice
Tourism benefits the economy
But the environment should also be respected
A String of letters
The Height of a man stand in the middle of a lush padi field
They spell, "Not for sale,"
Gede Agus says the words
Are meant to scare off investors
This is his land
He inherited from his ancestors
Development must be halted
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 8:12 PM UTC
His wife, George, was present with flowers.
Anne and Michael,his children, were there.
A headstone had been carved at the Quarry,
now all waited on Yeats to appear.
Soft and damp was that day in the graveyard
with the scent of turned earth in the air.
Beyond rose the bulk of Ben Bulben,
As the Lorry, with the poet, drew near.
Ten years he had slept in his coffin,
while the great nation states played at war.
Now Sean MacBride, the son of his rival,
brought him home, where he'd not been before.
At his birth, Yeats was a British subject.
By his death, a Dominion was here.
Now they laid him to rest in the free state;
the newly minted Republic of Eire.
A bhean chéile, George, a bhí i láthair le bláthanna.
Anne agus Michael, a pháistí, bhí ann.
Bhí A cloch chinn snoite ar an Cairéal,
gach fhan anois ar Yeats le feiceáil.
Bhí bog agus tais an lá sin sa reilig
leis an boladh de domhain iompú san aer.
Beyond ardaigh an chuid is mó de Ben Bulben,
Mar an Leoraí, leis an bhfile, tharraing aice.
Deich mbliana bhí chodail sé ina cónra,
agus an stáit náisiúin mór a bhí ag an chogaidh.
Anois Seán MacBride, mac a rival,
thabhairt dó sa bhaile, i gcás nach mhaith a bhí sé riamh.
Ag a rugadh é, go raibh Yeats ábhar na Breataine.
De réir a bhás, bhí Dominion anseo.
Anois atá leagtha siad dó a gcuid eile sa stát saor in aisce;
an bualadh nua-Phoblacht na Eire.
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 2:10 AM UTC
Tá mé codladh orm
Ag iarraidh codladh
Ach gan aon toradh
dom-ádh
Rugadh agus tógadh
leis dearcadh difriúil
lá i ndiadh lae
An grá mícheart
Is é mo chroí ag craoladh,
faoi grá
Ag muineadh dom nach,
faoi mná
Rachainn mé go dti an trá.
an alainn trá
Déarfainn mé Dia duit ar an buachaillín.
an alainn buachaillín
Mo muirnín.
Dhéanfainn mé seo, ach
Nuair a fháil i go dtí an trá,
Ní bheidh tú in ann.
Beidh mé san áit mícheart
ag an am mícheart.
Ní haon ionadh é mar
Ní féidir leat a shéanadh go bhfuil
mo chroí,
i gcónaí mícheart
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
Shantaigh siad a bheith
Chomth grámhar is Méidé agus a hIonsáin
Shantaigh siad a bheith chomth cáilúla is Didió agus Aeinéas.
Chomth torthúil is Iocasta agus Éideapús
Bhog siad le chéile
Ach ansin tháinig na troideanna
Agus bhi siad chomth trodach is Alastair agus a namhaid Dáirias.
Scar siad.
Agus nil aon chór thart.
Bhuel, sin é an scéal, nach ea?
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
Rua
Dearg,
Rua, roselet,
Gruaige na fíniúna agus scarlet
Fíonchaora, drown me i do deoch
As liopaí, fíona, Ruby, flesh an paisean
Torthaí agus adharc de neart,
Earthen meirge de pebbled cré
Tarraing mé mar uisce seeping
Isteach uiscígh ársa, ualaithe, i bhfolach
Faoi vastness Sahára
Sands. Tá mé scamall de aisling
Drifting, itching, edging chomh maith do chothromú
Hills. Do ******* sruthán mé mar gaile,
Tá do chluasa le haghaidh doves neadaithe
Agus do shúile, tá an spéir ag fanacht, cogaíochta
Le farraige, le haghaidh a dath,
Is é an ghrian wandering strainséir
Mar a thiteann sé, dar críoch gach lá, faded
Mar an fathach gásach de Antares faint,
Eclipsed ag do heavenly
Foirm, do lasair Vulcan
An tsolais.
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 10:12 AM UTC
No room to feel
We lived mostly as bridges, standing tall and strong.
Our hearts of stone were never for evil
It just had to be strong enough to protect the people in it.
No room to feel
There was no reason in emotion, no strength in tears and nothing good ever came from either.
The sunset was never meant to be stared at, it was the only sign that we had fought the sun that day and won, and the sunrise was a new days battle cry.
The stars were never meant to be gazed at, they only remind us that anything that could only shine in the dark would always remain small and common.
So no room to feel
Because we were men
We were Irish men
With a Guinness in one hand and a fist in the other. There was no room for hugs and embrace
Because we were men
We were Irish men on foreign soil but we were still Irish
And this was nothing but a great drinking story in the making
They couldn’t stain us, we were the palest of clouds yet we were the soil
We were the earth upon which the world stands. The world did not revolve around us, but we were the axis upon which it spun
So no room to feel
There’s a world to build of steel and bones and ours were the strongest Because we were men
We were Irish men
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 2:02 PM UTC
Bhíomar ag imirt haca an lá sin
Agus bhí tu ina bhall de mo fhoirenn
B' uimir a dó tú: mise, uimhir a trí
Thog an fhoireann sealanna chun mo chathoir a bhrúite.
An 'carbad na tine ' mar a dúirt mé
Ba naíchóiste é i ndáiríre.
Bhí tú ag tiomáint
Agus bhí tú ag rá rudaí
Chun an leanamh a cuireadh isteach air
Coisúil le 'Nil aon seanc agat' nó 'Iontach! Fior-iontach!'
Níor dhúirt tú aon rud nuar a luaigh mé gurb inís Hamlet breacht dom.
B'fhedír 'dáiríre?' ach sin é.
Tar éis ár gcluiche
Ghabh mé búiochas duit
Bhí tú ina sheasamh ar an staighre
Bhí mise ag strechaint le mo bhúiochas
Mo mhaoltheanga: tá fhios agat
Chonaic mé an trua i do shúile
Bhí mé lag agus bhí fhios agat
Chuaigh tú sios staighre gan fhocal
Fádo, duirt tú go leor...
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 3:28 PM UTC
Rua
Dearg,
Rua, roselet,
Gruaige na fíniúna agus scarlet
Fíonchaora, drown me i do deoch
As liopaí, fíona, Ruby, flesh an paisean
Torthaí agus adharc de neart,
Earthen meirge de pebbled cré
Tarraing mé mar uisce seeping
Isteach uiscígh ársa, ualaithe, i bhfolach
Faoi vastness Sahára
Sands. Tá mé scamall de aisling
Drifting, itching, edging chomh maith do chothromú
Hills. Do ******* sruthán mé mar gaile,
Tá do chluasa le haghaidh doves neadaithe
Agus do shúile, tá an spéir ag fanacht, cogaíochta
Le farraige, le haghaidh a dath,
Is é an ghrian wandering strainséir
Mar a thiteann sé, dar críoch gach lá, faded
Mar an fathach gásach de Antares faint,
Eclipsed ag do heavenly
Foirm, do lasair Vulcan
An tsolais.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 12:58 PM UTC
An saol na hóige
Deirtear go bhfúil se go hiontach
Go hállain, fiú.
Agus tá sé easca, an-easca dúinn
Á... na bréaga
Dearmadtar iad.
An brú, an strús
Na oícheanta nach bhídis ablata titeann ina chloadh
Agus an craoí-bhriste
Tá a lán uaillmhian ann.
Smaoite, aislingí, mianta
Ach táimid coisuil leis an ngarsúir beaga
Lan d'aisling ach nil linn fédir...
Nuair a fágaimid an deagorí
Deirimid go iniseoidh an fírinne dúinn
Ach tiocfaidh siad
Agus dearmadfar arís agus arís
Tá na glúnta milte
Agus ní thugimid faoi deara.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
FILL FILL A RÚN Ó
"Fill, fill a rún ó
Fill a rún ó is ná himigh uaim. . ."
Her voice
flowing over me
like I was a pebble
in a stream on a summer's morning
and time
an endless second or a mere century.
Her words in the Gaelic
and although I didn't know
their meaning
I could grasp
the sense of the sound
know
without knowing
like listening to water
breathing.
The faces of those
who had gone before
flew into her face
like a startled bird in a church.
Face after face
rose up and
became her
face.
The words like beads now
strung on the string of her song
ending in a lament
with no words at all
and I crying
not knowing I was crying
as if tears
were the only answer.
"Fill orm a chuisle 's a stór
Agus chífidh tú 'n ghlóir má fhilleann tú. . ."
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 4:59 PM UTC
Dearg,
Rua, roselet,
Gruaige na fíniúna agus scarlet
Fíonchaora, drown me i do deoch
As liopaí, fíona, Ruby, flesh an paisean
Torthaí agus adharc de neart,
Earthen meirge de pebbled cré
Tarraing mé mar uisce seeping
Isteach uiscígh ársa, ualaithe, i bhfolach
Faoi vastness Sahára
Sands. Tá mé scamall de aisling
Drifting, itching, edging chomh maith do chothromú
Hills. Do ******* sruthán mé mar gaile,
Tá do chluasa le haghaidh doves neadaithe
Agus do shúile, tá an spéir ag fanacht, cogaíochta
Le farraige, le haghaidh a dath,
Is é an ghrian wandering strainséir
Mar a thiteann sé, dar críoch gach lá, faded
Mar an fathach gásach de Antares faint,
Eclipsed ag do heavenly
Foirm, do lasair Vulcan
An tsolais.
Jul 13, 2012
Jul 13, 2012 at 10:13 PM UTC
Rua
Dearg,
Rua, roselet,
Gruaige na fíniúna agus scarlet
Fíonchaora, drown me i do deoch
As liopaí, fíona, Ruby, flesh an paisean
Torthaí agus adharc de neart,
Earthen meirge de pebbled cré
Tarraing mé mar uisce seeping
Isteach uiscígh ársa, ualaithe, i bhfolach
Faoi vastness Sahára
Sands. Tá mé scamall de aisling
Drifting, itching, edging chomh maith do chothromú
Hills. Do ******* sruthán mé mar gaile,
Tá do chluasa le haghaidh doves neadaithe
Agus do shúile, tá an spéir ag fanacht, cogaíochta
Le farraige, le haghaidh a dath,
Is é an ghrian wandering strainséir
Mar a thiteann sé, dar críoch gach lá, faded
Mar an fathach gásach de Antares faint,
Eclipsed ag do heavenly
Foirm, do lasair Vulcan
An tsolais.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
Bloodmark, swords and damnation.
I fought for the lost souls of the nations.
With such unbearable desire and passion.
Fuil ar mo aghaidh....
Secrets of three, veiled yet unhidden.
Lights upon the earth to cast away the forbiddens.
Pain and sorrow to deaden.
M'anam.......
Forget thy sins not...
Unreveal thy secrets not...
Mo chroí a fháil ar bhealach...
For God love ist divine...
To those who dwell in His Shrine...
Dorchadas fháil bás...
Darkness finds death...
Solas teacht ar an saol
Light finds life...
Nov 18, 2010
Nov 18, 2010 at 8:39 AM UTC
tá brón orm...
I'm sorry,
but, God, there is a sadness on me.
I know you have begun your move on,
and I promise I am happy for you -
but I have more work left in my heart
agus dúnéaltach mór.
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 7:21 PM UTC
Rua
Dearg,
Rua, roselet,
Gruaige na fíniúna agus scarlet
Fíonchaora, drown me i do deoch
As liopaí, fíona, Ruby, flesh an paisean
Torthaí agus adharc de neart,
Earthen meirge de pebbled cré
Tarraing mé mar uisce seeping
Isteach uiscígh ársa, ualaithe, i bhfolach
Faoi vastness Sahára
Sands. Tá mé scamall de aisling
Drifting, itching, edging chomh maith do chothromú
Hills. Do ******* sruthán mé mar gaile,
Tá do chluasa le haghaidh doves neadaithe
Agus do shúile, tá an spéir ag fanacht, cogaíochta
Le farraige, le haghaidh a dath,
Is é an ghrian wandering strainséir
Mar a thiteann sé, dar críoch gach lá, faded
Mar an fathach gásach de Antares faint,
Eclipsed ag do heavenly
Foirm, do lasair Vulcan
An tsolais.
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
I am plastered with minimarts and motorcycles -
a street so overwhelming to the senses,
but imprinted on the backs of the hands of
Mr. Yamamoto, Craig Miller, Agus Gunawan, and Sergei Ivanov.
What were they running away from again?
A tattered - sinfully boring - machine-repetitive life?
The thing about me is; even though you trash me
with cigarette butts and remnants of your sour past,
I am only a taste of tradition -
a façade before the secrets of the Gods unveil -
and you can bet that two October bombs won't dull my lambent.
In any case, you must purge the storm of serpents
before you sleep, and step into
the silence of monks.
But remember, the distance between your soul and mine will never change. Ever.
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 1:31 PM UTC
The red run the rocks in the highlands
rare as diamonds the white
the ancients fumed, a harbinger of doom
Arthurian legends, more bright
The White Stag nver' be caught
running the forests all day and all night
wonder be seen, the emblem of queens
ta a beautiful meaningful, sight
Legends and myths, they abound
tales of proportions large and not slight
touched by the scene, the wonder it means
a portent that things, be alright
Scots Gaelic:
An ruith ruadh na creagan anns a 'Ghàidhealtachd
tearc mar diamaint an geal
bha na seann daoine a 'smuaineachadh, a' toirt ionnsaigh orra
Uirsgeulan Artair, nas soilleir
The White Stag nver 'air a ghlacadh
ruith nan coilltean fad an latha agus fad na h-oidhche
iongnadh ri fhaicinn, suaicheantas nam banrighrean
tha sealladh brìghmhor brìghmhor
Sgeulachdan is uirsgeulan, tha iad gu leòr
sgeulachdan mu chuibhreannan mòra agus chan eil mòran
air a chuairteachadh leis an t-sealladh, an iongnadh a tha e a 'ciallachadh
portent a tha sin, bi gu ceart
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
is mo croí theanga í,
is an t-anam ó t-am dearmadta
gur ní cuimhnigh mé.
tá sé bhriste 's,
neamhiomlán,
ach is breá liom í fos
mar sin,
is mo bhaile í
agus tiocfaidh an lá
nuair tá mo theanga agam
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 7:49 PM UTC
go maithe dia dom é!
is peacach mé,
agus tá bás uaim.
le do thoil,
sábháil dom uaim féin.
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 10:39 PM UTC
8 Isang hamak na mangingisda
Itong si Agus na makisig at masigla
9 Mga magulang niya’y kaytagal nang payapa
Kaya natutong mamuhay mag-isa
10 Gamit ang mga gawang-kamay nito –
Lambat, sibat, panggaid at isang baroto
11 Sa ‘di pangkaraniwang palad ay kasinggulang niya
Ang natatanging prinsesa ng bayan nila
12 Lingid sa kanyang kaalaman
Si Dara ay lagi siyang pinagmamasdan
13 Halinang-halina sa binatang kaygwapo
Dagdag pa ang katawang matipuno
14 Minsan naring natikman ng dalaga
Ang mga huling lamang-dagat ng binata.
-06/22/2012
*Gintong Lupa Series
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 9:58 PM UTC
I loved you at your darkest
You only loved me at my brightest
Your silent tears were an illusion
As you devoured me until depletion
A thousand curses on the hands which broke me
And a thousand curses on the ones which you see
You will never forsake me again.
Bha gaol agam ort aig an àm as dorcha
Cha robh gaol agad orm ach aig an ìre as soilleire
B 'e manadh a bh' anns an deòir sàmbach agad
Fhad 's a bha thu gam ithe gus an robh mi air falbh
Mìle mallachd air na làmhan a bhuail mi
Agus mìle mallachd air na fheadainn a chi thu
Cha trèig thu mi a-chaoidh truilleadh
May 12, 2020
May 12, 2020 at 10:37 PM UTC