Life Scen by Colm Breathnach

Radharc Beo


I
Tá éan tar éis tuirlingt
Ar chraobh sa chrann
Taobh thiar don dtigh.
Tá duilliúr beag idir mé agus é,
Mar a bheadh scraith péinte ann,
Sa tslí go ndéantar scáth do,
Crot éin díreach.
Is tá an spéir líonta le solas glé.
Ar chuma éigin
Táim ag feiscint an tsaoil
Ar maidin mar phéintéireacht
Agus Eanáir ag iarraidh
Feabhra a dhéanamh do fhéinig.


II
Ba ghnách liom dul suas an abhainn píosa
Ar leith ón gcuid eile
Is mé ag foghlaim an tsnámha
Go dtí áit ná raibh éinne eile ann.
Idir dhá uisce a bhínn do gcuid ba mhó
Gan ar mo chumas m’anáil a choinneáil
Ach ar éigean
Gan ar mo chumas mo chloigeann a ardú
Chun análú
Chaithfinn mo cheithre bhonn a chur fúm
Is seasamh suas i lár an tsrutha
Agus braonaíocha i bhfabhraí mo shúl.
Dheininn ionadh don solas ag spréacharnach
Ar uisce na habhann
Is i nduilliúr na gcrann fan an bhruaigh.


III
Boladh tais na hithreach
Tar éis na báistí--
Mar a fhaighimid mos
Na báistí ón ithir
Chímid leoithne
I nduilliúr crainn,
Ach ní chorraíonn
Duilliúr na gcrann
Síorghlas puinn
Amhail díreach
Gur péintéireacht atá ann.


IV
Bhíomar ag súgradh
Fán gcoill,
Dhá bhuíon déanta againn dínn féin
Is sinn ag crústach fia-úll ar a chéile.
Chuireas mo chloigeann aníos
Is bhuail urchar mé sa leathshúil dheas.
An ní b’aistí faoi
Go bhfuaireas boladh an úill
Nuair a bhuail sé faoi mo shúil.
Sinéistéise b’fhéidir
Ach ní dócha é.


V
Chuireadar crann an duine ar ár son
Mar chomóradh ar an mílaois
Ag comharthú gur géaga
Gach duine don ndaonra
Don gcrann céanna
Agus thugadar coinnle dúinn, leis.
Siombalachas arís, b’fhéidir,
Gur solas sinn go léir dá chéile
Ach ní móide é.


VI
Géag bainte glan de chrann ar thaobh an bhóthair
Duine a luasc do, ní foláir, agus é ólta.
Colm a bhfuil cuma deoire bunoscionn air
Fágtha i stoc an chrainn.
Níl aon éan ann.
Tharlódh go bhfuil sé ag fáil bháis
Ach ní dócha é.
Nuair a dhéanfar Feabhra de mhí Eanáir arís
Eascróidh bachlóga,
Péinteálfar pictiúr eile fós.


VII
Tá an t-éan imithe don gcraobh
Níl cuma pictiúir
A thuilleadh ar dhuilliúr
An chrainn shíorghlais.
Tá an spéir ghlé dulta i léithe.



-----------

Life Scene


i
A bird has alighted
On the branch of a tree
Behind the house.
Some slight foliage between it and me,
Like a layer of paint,
Makes it appear shadowy,
Merely a bird shape.
And the sky is filled with vivid light.
Somehow this morning
I seem to be seeing the world
As a painting
While January endeavours
To become February.


II
I used to go up the river a bit
Away from the others
When I was learning to swim
To a spot where I was alone.
I floated under water mostly
Barely managing to hold my breath,
Unable to raise my head
To breathe
I’d have to get my hands and feet beneath me
And stand up in the middle of the stream
With drops in my eyelashes.
I marvelled at the light scintillating
On the water of the river
And in the leaves of the trees along the bank.


III
The damp smell of the earth
After rain--
As we get the scent
Of rain from the earth
We see a breeze
In the foliage of a tree.
But the leaves
Of the evergreen
Barely stir
Just as if
It is a painting.


IV
We were playing
In the wood,
We had divided into two groups
And were pelting crab-apples at each other.
I put my head up
And was struck by a shot in my right eye.
The strangest part
Was that I got the smell of the apple
As it hit my eye.
Synaesthesia perhaps
But probably not.


V
They planted a tree for every one of us
To celebrate the millennium
As a sign that all the population 
Are branches of the same tree
And they gave us candles as well,
Symbolizing again perhaps
That we are all a light for each other.
It’s unlikely though.


VI
A branch torn completely from a tree by the road
Someone who swung from it drunk no doubt.
A scar the shape of an upside down tear
Left in the trunk.
There are no birds in it.
It could be dying
But probably not.
When January becomes February again
Sprouts will shoot,
A different picture will appear.


VII
The bird has left the tree.
The foliage
Of the evergreen
A picture no more.
The vivid sky gone grey.

​

Colm Breathnach is a poet, novelist and translator. He has won the principal poetry prize at the annual Conradh na Gaeilge Oireachtas Literary Competitions on four occasions and the Irish American Cultural Institute presented him with the ‘Butler Prize’ in 1999 for his poetry. With Dr. Andrea Nic Thaidhg, he produced a translation of the Günter Grass novel Katz und Maus under the title Cat agus Luch (Coiscéim, 2009). His first novel, Con Trick “An Bhalla Bháin” (Cló Iar-Chonnacht), a metafictional work which was awarded a special recognition prize at the Oireachtas Literary Competitions, was published in 2009. He has had poems translated into English, Sottish Gaelic, German, Italian, French, Slovenian and Chinese and his collection An Fear Marbh appeared in a Rumanian edition under the title Bărbatul fără viaţă (Ars Longa, Iasi, 1999). He has been awarded writing residencies in Shanghai and Slovenia and he was Irish-language Writer in Residence in St. Patrick’s College, Dublin City University, in 2015. His latest collection Tírdhreacha, new and selection poems with accompanying artwork by Pól Ó Colmáin, was published in 2015 by LeabhairCOMHAR.