In the first half of 2016, I wrote a poem in fourteen parts, called Nano. Because it represented a lot of typing, I skipped it when I started this blog. I have been asked to include it, though, and this is as good a time as any, since the Gymniad series is essentially finished.

Nano is about my grandmother's experiences when she came to the US from Ireland in 1911. An earlier version, in prose, was called Nano in the Wild West, which describes well what it is about.
The poem series is dedicated to my cousin Nano Murphy, of Midleton, East Cork, Ireland. She is the namesake of the original Nano, my grandmother, Nora "Nano" Dunne Hanes, of Whitegate, Cork.

Gymniad LIII - We Are So Very Lucky (with translations)

Sitting naked at the dining room table,
my body is caressed by a soft breeze
from outside.
The front door has blown wide open--
I could be seen,
but it doesn't matter.
We have put ourselves
out to pasture
in a place where people
have their own lives,
and you can have yours.

[portunhol surenho]

Sentado nu a la mesa da sala de jantá,
meu corpo se acaricia por uma brisa suave
de fora.
A porta da frente se abreu bem por o vento--
eu poderia ser visto,
mas non importa.
Nos colocamos
para o pasto
num lugar onde as pessoas
tem suas proprias vidas,
y voce pode ter a sua.


[español]

Sentado desnudo a la mesa del comedor,
mi cuerpo se acaricia por una suave brisa
desde afuera.
La puerta de entrada se ha abierto de par en par--
podría ser visto,
pero no importa.
Nos hemos puesto
a pastar
en un lugar donde la gente
tiene sus propias vidas,
y puedes tener la tuya.

The End of the Gymniad Series?

Is Gymniad LII the last poem in the Gymniad series? Perhaps. My only model is a rather tired 75-year-old man, I'm running out of poses, and I think I've said most of what I wanted to say on the subject of natural nudity. I think it's an important subject, so I may revisit it in some form in the future. It has been a very successful series, but I think it may be time to move on.

I offer two photographs for your consideration, both taken while on a trip to Ireland in June of 2016. The first, fully clothed, was taken on a bench behind a house that was once owned by members of my grandmother's family.

It is, as you might expect, a picture that has great meaning for me.


The second, nude, was taken on the same trip, in the bathroom of a hotel room just a few feet away.

The second photograph is also very meaningful to me, and as a matter of fact it inspired the first poem I wrote on the subject of nudity.

Both pictures have deep meaning for me. The point, though, is that there are many things to write about besides nudity, I intend to write about as many of them as I can.

Gymniad LII - There Is Nothing to Say (with translations)

There is nothing to say
about a naked human being.
We are without attributes
until judgments are made.

There is nothing to say
about body-acceptance
and tolerance of diversity.
until they are not present.

There is nothing to say
about joy in nature,
until it is lacking.

There is nothing to say
about comfort and efficiency
until you don't have them.

There is nothing to say
about respect,
until there is none.

The same is true
of freedom.

[portunhol surenho]

Non hay nada a dizer
sobre um ser humano nu.
Estamo sem atributos
até que os julgamentos sesham feitos.

Non hay nada a dizer
sobre a aceptasón do corpo
y tolerancia a la diversidade.
até que elas non estesham presentes.

Non hay nada a dizer
sobre alegria na natureza,
até que estesha faltando.

Non hay nada a dizer
sobre conforto y eficiencia
até que voce non os tenha.

Non hay nada a dizer
sobre o respeito
até que non hasha nenhum.

O mesmo é verdade
da liberdade.


[español]

No hay nada que decir
sobre un ser humano desnudo.
Estamos sin atributos
hasta que se hagan juicios

No hay nada que decir
sobre la aceptación del cuerpo
y tolerancia de la diversidad.
hasta que no estén presentes.

No hay nada que decir
sobre la alegría en la naturaleza,
hasta que falta.

No hay nada que decir
sobre la comodidad y la eficiencia
hasta que no las tengas.

No hay nada que decir
sobre el respeto,
hasta que no haya ninguno.

Lo mismo es verdad
de la libertad.


[Hindi]

कहने के लिये कुछ नहीं है
एक नग्न इंसान के बारे में
हम विशेषताओं के बिना हैं
जब तक निर्णय किए जाते हैं

कहने के लिये कुछ नहीं है
शरीर-स्वीकृति के बारे में
और विविधता की सहिष्णुता
जब तक वे मौजूद नहीं हैं

कहने के लिये कुछ नहीं है
प्रकृति में खुशी के बारे में,
जब तक यह कमी नहीं है

कहने के लिये कुछ नहीं है
आराम और दक्षता के बारे में
जब तक आप उन्हें नहीं है

कहने के लिये कुछ नहीं है
सम्मान के बारे में,
जब तक कोई भी नहीं है

यही सच है
स्वतंत्रता की।

Gymniad LI - Ancestral Campfires (+ptl, es, fr, hi, ud ꭴꮪꭹ)

Ancestral campfires
stir in my blood,
and their stories
speak in my genes,
telling of an endless
fight for freedom.

You cannot make me
what I'll not be,
nor imprison
what was born free.

[portunhol surenho]

Fogueiras ancestrais
se moven no meu sangue,
e suas historias
falan em meus genes
contando de uma luta
interminável pela liberdade.

Voce non pode me fazer
o que eu non serei
nem preso
o que nasceu livre.


[español]

Hogueras ancestrales de campamento
se mueven en mi sangre,
y sus historias
hablan en mis genes,
contando de una lucha sinfín
por la libertad.

No puedes hacer de mi
lo que no seré,
ni encarcelar
lo que nació libre.


[français]

Feux de camp ancestraux
meuvent dans mon sang,
et leurs histoires
parlent dans mes gènes,
racontant une infinie
lutte pour la liberté.

Tu ne peux pas me faire
ce que je ne serai pas,
ni emprisonner
Ce qui est né libre.


[Hindi]

पैतृक शिविर
मेरे खून में हलचल,
और उनकी कहानियाँ
मेरे जीनों में बोलो,
एक अंतहीन की कह रही है
स्वतंत्रता के लिए लड़ो।

तुम मुझे मना नहीं सकते
मैं क्या नहीं हूँ,
न ही कैद
जो कि पैदा हुआ था मुफ़्त


[Udugi ꭴꮪꭹ]

hilvhiyui alewisdodi-atsilvdi
adanvsase aqua gigv hawina,
ale unatseli kanohelvsgidi
kanegvase aqua gigv-asdawadvsdodi hawina,
kanohesgv nutloyasdvna ulisdv
adisvsdi dohi-adedi nasgihai.

Nihi dla yeliquase gotlvdi ayv
gado-usdi aya dla gesvose,
ale didasdudigi
gado-usdi udenv asequui.

ᎯᎸᎯᏳᎢ ᎠᎴᏫᏍᏙᏗ-ᎠᏥᎸᏗ
ᎠᏓᏅᏌᏎ ᎠᏆ ᎩᎬ ᎭᏫᎾ,
ᎠᎴ ᎤᎾᏤᎵ ᎧᏃᎮᎸᏍᎩᏗ
ᎧᏁᎬᎠᏎ ᎠᏆ ᎩᎬ-ᎠᏍᏓᏩᏛᏍᏙᏗ ᎭᏫᎾ,
ᎧᏃᎮᏍᎬ ᏄᏠᏯᏍᏛᎾ ᎤᎵᏍᏛ
ᎠᏗᏒᏍᏗ ᏙᎯ-ᎠᏕᏗ ᎾᏍᎩᎭᎢ.

ᏂᎯ Ꮬ ᏰᎵᏆᏎ ᎪᏢᏗ ᎠᏴ
ᎦᏙ-ᎤᏍᏗ ᎠᏯ Ꮬ ᎨᏒᎣᏎ,
ᎠᎴ ᏗᏓᏍᏚᏗᎩ
ᎦᏙ-ᎤᏍᏗ ᎤᏕᏅ ᎠᏎᏊᎢ.

About Languages (updated 25 Feb. 2018)

I've recently learned that I can significantly increase the size of my poetic following by translating my poems, most of which are originally written in English, into a few other languages. Currently I am translating into Portunhol Surenho (a Portuguese-Spanish border language), Spanish, French, and sometimes Esperanto or Hindi, depending on the subject. I have occasionally translated into Catalán and Italian, and if there were enough demand, I would do it. The important point is that, although many people can use English as a second language, they may not be able to enjoy poetry written in English, at least not without some help.

I have quite a history with languages. In theory, I can speak English, Spanish, French, Italian, and Esperanto. You will notice that the list doesn't include Portuguese, although I've read whole books in the language. If you say to me, in the accent of Rio, "No Brasil, as melhores músicas são as músicas antigas," I will not understand you. This has been proven. But if you say to me in Portunhol, "En Brasil, as meshores canzones son as canzones veshas," I will surely understand you. When I'm in Brazil, I speak Portunhol, and am understood, at least in the south. I don't claim to speak Portuguese, although I can read it.

So much for theory. In practice, I was born in California, thirty kilometers from the Mexican border. My native language is English. I learned Spanish early in life, and the Spanish I learned at that time was Mexican Spanish. I have a real love for Mexico, Mexican music, and Mexican food, but I have not been in the country for perhaps twenty-five years.

One thing about me is that I'm a chameleon. When my wife and I were living in Spain (Barcelona), I picked up the accent and the rhythms of Spanish as spoken in that country. When I immigrated to Uruguay, some (rather pretentious) people really liked the way I spoke Spanish. That was five years ago, and now I talk pretty much like everybody else here. We drink more ma-te per capita than any other country, and we speak gaucho.

If your language is one that I might have some familiarity with and you'd like me to provide translations of my poems into that language, let me know (exolinguist at gmail dot com). I'll think about it, and will try if there is sufficient demand. If you'd like to translate my poems into your own language, I'll be happy to try to help.

Gymniad L - I Hope that By Now (with translations)

I hope that by now
you can take my nakedness
in stride--it is,
after all, an everyday
thing. It belongs to
the hottest time of year
(right now), and to
the coldest. I live
in my skin.

My nudity is
precious to me,
and I will never
give it up.

You shouldn't,
either.

[portunhol surenho]

Espero que neste punto
voce pode aceptá
minha nudez com calma - é,
afinal, uma coisa
cotidiana. Isso pertenece a
la época mais quente do ano
(agora mesmo), y a
la mais fria. Eu vivo
na minha pele.

Minha nudez é
preciosa para mim
y eu nunca vou a
abandoná-la.

Voce non devería,
tampoco.


[español]

Espero que a este punto
puedes tomar mi desnudez
con calma - es,
después de todo, una cosa
de todos los días. Pertenece a
la época más caliente del año
(ahora mismo), y a
la más fría. Yo vivo
en mi piel.

Mi desnudez es
preciosa para mí,
y nunca voy a
renunciar a ella.

Tú no deberías,
tampoco.