Gymniad LV - Noble Companion through Life (with translations: ptl, es, fr)

Noble companion through life,
the body is the vehicle
of our adventures
and our growth
in wisdom.
The body is to be
appreciated
and respected,
but not worshiped.
When the body ceases
to serve,
we must lay it down,
perhaps to seek
another.

[portunhol surenho]

Nobre companheiro através da vida,
o corpo é o veículo
de nossas aventuras
y nosso crescimento
em sabedoria.
O corpo deve ser
estimado
y respeitado
mas non adorado.
Quando o corpo cessa
servir,
devemos colocá-lo,
talvez para buscá
outro.


[español]

Noble compañero a través de la vida,
el cuerpo es el vehículo
de nuestras aventuras
y nuestro crecimiento
en sabiduría.
El cuerpo debe ser
apreciado
y respetado,
pero no adorado.
Cuando el cuerpo cesa
servir,
debemos dejarlo,
quizás para buscar
otro.


[français]

Compagnon noble à travers la vie,
le corps est le véhicule
de nos aventures
et notre croissance
dans la sagesse.
Le corps doit être
apprécié
et respecté,
mais pas adoré.
Quand le corps cesse
servir,
nous devons le poser,
peut-être chercher
un autre.

Nano, Parts IX - XIV

Nano, Part IX.

Nano struggled, as
the Great Depression
came and went,
mostly alone. For
a time, she placed
her children in a
Catholic orphanage.
Roosevelt's WPA
gave her work
as a seamstress.
She wrote poems,
published in the
local newspaper.

Nano, Part X.

Nano lost a son,
her youngest,
and went gray
overnight.
Still she wrote
poems.
A son and three
daughters married.
But when it came
to men,
her thoughts
were her own.


Nano, Part XI.

This was something new.
As my mother poured
water from the stove
into the tub, my
grandmother stood naked
in the kitchen.
"Why don't you find
a man? You're still
in your fifties,"
my mother said.
Even I, at four
years old, could
see that she
had been,
was still,
beautiful.

Nano, Part XII.

"What's this I found
on your dresser,"
my mother asked
my grandmother.
"These are not your
glasses."
"No," my grandmother
answered, "they are
Mr. Foltz's glasses."
"But, Mother, he's been
gone for twenty years!"
"I know," my
grandmother said,
"but I always thought
he might come back
and need them."

When it came to men,
Nano's thoughts
were her own.


Nano, Part XIV.

No, there is no
Part thirteen,
which to Nano
would have meant
bad luck, along
with black cats,
crows at the
window, and
certain tea leaves.

She left us
at a ripe age,
still loving
and reciting
poetry.

Unfortunately, Nano
never again
saw Ireland.

I hope she sees it now.


Atlántida, Uruguay, May 12 2016

Photo: Susan Traxler Martin

Nano, Parts V - VIII

Nano, Part V.

From the deck of the Mauretania
Nano had her last glimpse
of her beloved Ireland.
The young man visited her
relatives, asking about her,
but she never saw him again.
Her sister kindly wrote to her
for more than fifty years,
often sending the Holly
Bough at Christmas,
but Nano never saw
Ireland again.

Photo: Susan Traxler Martin

Nano, Part VI.

In Nogales, Arizona,
there was little need
of French, and the only pianos
were in saloons.
Nano lost her brother,
and then her mother.
She taught school
in the dusty, desert town,
so unlike Ireland.
The only thing she found
familiar was the Latin
of the Mass.

Nano, Part VII.

In Arizona, Nano married
a miner and storekeeper who
was twenty years her senior.
He drank too much, once threw
a frying pan at her, and even
shot at her, as she ran
from the house.
But she would give him
children, and when
the Easter Rising came in
Ireland, she was pregnant
with her first son.

Nano, Part VIII.

Nano struggled as the
years went by, in
Arizona and then
in California, where
she married another man.
He was a gambler,
an artist,
a musician, and
a serial deserter of
his family.
While the children
continued to come,
Ireland, at least most
of it, became
an independent
country, one that
Nano would
never know.

In the Land my Grandmother Left

In the land my grandmother left,
the June days are very long.
When the sun comes out, it's heaven,
and the mourning doves sing
a different song,
inviting me to know
how it must have been.

I think of her wrenching step
as her foot left the land.


Midleton, East Cork, June 12 2016

White-bearded Gentleman

I am a white-bearded gentleman,
with a raging beast inside.
No one can know this passion,
no one can turn this tide.
No one can slow my reckless speed,
no one can shame me.
Those who would try, take heed,
for only love can tame me.
Agents of control and greed,
you'll never, ever name me.
Life can paint my picture,
but only love can frame me,
only love inflame me..

Nano, Parts I - IV

Nano, Part I

In a yellow house on Main Street,
in Whitegate, County Cork,
Nano helps her mother
to fill the shop window
with apple pies and turnovers
and cherry cobblers.
She grew up without her father,
so when it comes to men,
she has little to compare to,
and her thoughts
are her own.
As she makes pastries
and waits on customers,
Nano composes poems.

Nano, Part II

Nano attended a convent school,
where she learned to speak French
and play the piano.
Now, as she works,
Nano writes wistful and
reflective poems,
full of love of
nature, and love of
Ireland.
Still, she does not marry,
and when it comes to men,
her thoughts are her own.

Courtesy of Patricia Traxler

Nano, Part III

Her mother has now left
for America,
with a brother who is
ill and dying.
The shop sold,
Nano stays with her
married sister.
In that larger house,
in another Cork town,
she occasionally bakes
a pie, a turnover,
or a cobbler.
Still she does not marry,
and when it comes to men,
her thoughts are her own.

Nano, Part IV

In Guileen, Nano walks
by the water's edge,
where the tender will take her
to the ship.
She falls to talking with
a young man of her age.
With a gust of wind,
her picture hat takes wing.
He climbs over the low seawall
and retrieves it for her.
Somehow, while they talk
and while they walk
the paths of the cliff,
the afternoon passes.
He asks for her address,
and she gives it,
but she is leaving
for America
in the morning.

Gymniad LIV - The Range of Light (with translations)

The range of light
is like the range of words,
and form
is always form.
There is nothing to say
about a naked person,
and their naturalness
asserts itself,
leaving the clothed
to envy their comfort,
and their freedom.

Be the one envied,
if you can.

[portunhol surenho]

A gama de luz
é como a gama de palavras,
y forma
é sempre forma.
Non hay nada a dizer
sobre uma pessoa nua,
y sua naturalidade
impone-se,
deishando o vestido
invejá su conforto,
y a sua liberdade.

Seja invejável,
se voce pode.


[español]

El rango de luz
es como el rango de palabras,
y forma
es siempre forma.
No hay nada que decir
sobre una persona desnuda,
y su naturalidad
se impone,
dejando a los vestidos
envidiar su comodidad,
y su libertad.

Sé el envidiado,
si puedes.