poetry

At night in my dreams

irlandesuk poesía, poetry

At night in my dreams
I walk through fields of stars

the origin of all things
is here but nothing ever ends

I dream that birds in flight
weave in and out among the galaxies

pure existence they have no notion
of distance nor of time

Paul Verlaine wrote of the vast
tender sky that settles upon us

For all its fire and heat the universe
contrived to create the sparrow’s

breath and the lips of a child
the smile on lovers’ faces

and a sense of place and purpose
in my heart : a sense of peace

John Lyons

Por campos de estrellas

Por la noche en mis sueños
camino por campos de estrellas

el origen de todas las cosas
está aquí pero nada termina nunca

Sueño que los pájaros en vuelo
entran y salen entre las galaxias

pura existencia no tienen noción
de distancia ni de tiempo

Paul Verlaine escribió sobre el vasto cielo
tierno que se posa sobre nosotros

A pesar de todo su fuego y calor
el universo se las ingenió para crear

el aliento del gorrión y los labios de un niño.
la sonrisa en los rostros de los amantes

y un sentido de lugar y propósito
en mi corazón : una sensación de paz

John Lyons

Why the nightingale sings

irlandesuk poetry

Beauty of lip
       beauty of gesture
of word and deed
       Early summer days
the sap has risen
       the trees are in leaf
and everywhere seeds
       That the purpose of life
is life :
       more and more of it

Why the nightingale sings
       why the dove coos
why the bulls in the fields
       defend the territory
that they want to cover
       Beauty of hand in hand
beauty of lovers’ eyes
       locked in love

John Lyons

Porque o rouxinol canta

Beleza de lábios
         beleza do gesto
de palavra e ação
         Primeiros dias de verão
a seiva subiu
         as árvores estão em folha
e em toda parte sementes
         Que o propósito da vida
é a vida:
         mais e mais disso

Porque o rouxinol canta
         porque a pomba arrulha
porque os touros nos campos
       defendem o território
que eles querem cobrir
         beleza de mãos dadas
beleza dos olhos dos amantes
       travados no amor

L’univers symbiotique

irlandesuk poésie, poetry

Nous cultivons les étoiles
       en reconnaissance de la terre
qu’elles nous ont donnée
       le sol minéral à partir duquel
toutes choses poussent
       les plantes et les arbres
qui sont notre force vitale
       l’univers symbiotique
qui nous lie au chant du moineau
       au baryton profond de la baleine
aux premiers sanglots d’un nouveau-né
       qui quitte le ventre de sa mère
Et il n’y a pas une seule forme de beauté
       supérieure à toutes les autres
étant donné que la beauté est la vérité
       essentielle omniprésente de la création
et que l’amour est son expression
       la plus profonde

John Lyons

Love’s deepest expression

We cultivate the stars
       in recognition of the earth
that they have given us
       the mineral soil out of which
all things grow
       the plants and trees
that are our very lifeblood
       the symbiotic universe
that binds us
       to the sparrow’s song
to the whale’s deep baritone
       to the first sobs of a newborn
as it leaves its mother’s womb
       and there is no one form of beauty
superior to all the others
       given that beauty is the essential
omnipresent truth of creation
       and love is its deepest expression

Love’s deepest expression

irlandesuk poésie, poetry

We cultivate the stars
       in recognition of the earth
that they have given us
       the mineral soil out of which
all things grow
       the plants and trees
that are our very lifeblood
       the symbiotic universe
that binds us
       to the sparrow’s song
to the whale’s deep baritone
       to the first sobs of a newborn
as it leaves its mother’s womb
       and there is no one form of beauty
superior to all the others
       given that beauty is the essential
omnipresent truth of creation
       and love is its deepest expression

John Lyons

L’expression la plus profonde de l’amour

Nous cultivons les étoiles
       en reconnaissance de la terre
qu’elles nous ont donnée
       le sol minéral à partir duquel
toutes choses poussent
       les plantes et les arbres
qui sont notre force vitale
       l’univers symbiotique
qui nous lie au chant du moineau
       au baryton profond de la baleine
aux premiers sanglots d’un nouveau-né
       qui quitte le ventre de sa mère
Et il n’y a pas une seule forme de beauté
       supérieure à toutes les autres
étant donné que la beauté est la vérité
       essentielle omniprésente de la création
et que l’amour est son expression
       la plus profonde

A question of foxes

irlandesuk poetry

At dawn the foxes
       chatting away
at the end
       of the garden

to me it’s a cacophonous
       high-pitched screech
to them I’m sure
       it’s music to their ears

I wonder about
       their vocal chords
how many words
       they are able

to enunciate and
        whether they’re able
to formulate questions
       or express their feelings

John Lyons

A colourful love affair

irlandesuk art, poetry

gestation

           Gestation, John Lyons (50 x 70 cm, oil on canvas)

This is how it begins
       less an idea than an embryo
what it is and what it will be
       who knows ?
What colours and shapes and textures
       remain to be seen

As it stands
       the easy stage is complete
where anything can go right
       because there’s everything
to play for : the black mixed
       with two shades of blue
the cadmium yellow cut
       with a little burnt umber

I now need to hold back
       to listen to the canvas
to turn it this way and that
       scrutinise it
from every angle for days
       or even weeks on end
before further decisions
       are taken

In time it’ll tell me
       what it wants to express
and I trust
       as always
that it’ll keep me
       in the frame

Can one fall in love
       with cadmium yellow
or the cadmium red
       that is currently absent
making the heart
       grow fonder ?

Playful or serious
       there’ll be a message
but it’ll string me along
       keep me on my toes
until it finally decides
       to reveal all

John Lyons

The self all at sea

irlandesuk poetry ,

Awe
       that sense of wonderment
when the mind
       not to say the body
is blown away
       by beauty

That she is rose
       and flesh
all woven
       from light

Here in the place of birth
       her hair tangled
by the brisk breeze
       her eyes damp
with remembrance
       with loss

At night she grinds her teeth
       the lost innocence
the years misspent
       in pointless pursuits
the child in her
       a figment of the imagination

She who was once rose
       on the threshold of dust
at the dissolution of time
       where the sea thrashes
the ocean’s edge
       and peace alone
comes to creatures
       that swim with the tide

John Lyons

Coffee bones

irlandesuk art, poetry ,
archaeology
Coffee bones, John Lyons (30 x 30 cm, coffee grounds and oil on canvas)

Bones that yearn
for other bones
out of the earth
into the earth

coffee grounds
and yellow cadmium
eyes turning
one toward the other

only love heals
the scars left
by love

winsome
her hazel eyes
her lips
a celebration

love woven
on the loom
of her life

bones
and the echo
of other bones
long gone

Venus sidles up
to the moon
and for a brief
moment

it illuminates
their love
their bodies turning
in unison

time will one day
sweep them away
for ever conjoined
their dust

their bones
laid to rest
for a single
eternity

John Lyons

With my emerald eyes

irlandesuk poetry

The chestnut the oak
       the elm the ash
have soaked up
       the night’s rain
So easy on the eye
       their lush green leaves
so peaceful and majestic
       as they winnow the wind

Eloquent in their intelligence
       they speak of the beauty of life
that never really fades
       With exemplary endurance
they guide us through
       the deepest tests of time
Ever present ever faithful
       they line our horizons
circumspect and generous
       and absolutely undemanding

Under willow one evening
       I lay and looked up
through the slender branches
       and saw my star trace
a path across the sky
       and that night I dreamt
of you and all the love
       we once shared

John Lyons

Bed of roses

irlandesuk poetry

cutting

The long green
       leafy tongues
of this plant
       peering through
the undergrowth
       lapping up the light

Its four-petalled
       flower little bigger
than a pinhead
       proud to exhibit
itself amid the tangle
       of blackberry canes

All life
       out of this soil
this rich clay
       from which your lips
were formed
       minerals that fed
your blood your breath
       and shaped your limbs

Here birth and death
       coexist as one
feeds the other
       in the eternal cycle
of resurrection
       And so I say
: make of your love
       a bed of roses
so as to be sure that
       it will never die

John Lyons