Tuesday, March 5, 2013

03- 2013 A Tribute

A tribute to Dónall Ó Conchúir 1847-1930
& his poem 
'Dhá Chích Danann'

At a monastery kitchen table I sat
Listening to old Irish being translated
Clear distinct verse with hidden meanings
Spoken in soft tone like a blended prayer

Lulled, my mind by rhythm travelled
As this other language unravelled
So leaving a rich cream behind I flew
To a land where dreams weave anew

To sit with my back against She - Rowan
Who was clothed in milky lace so delicate
I inhaled deeply her fragrant blossom
A vapour that transmuted me to spirit

A wave that kisses the shores of Erin
The song of Amergin
A breath of hot air that ripens corn
Dew on Bealtaine's morn

A mist that caressed Anu's Paps

©MRL 05 - 03 - 2013

An excerpt from 'Dhá Chích Danann' 
by Dónall Ó Conchúir 1847-1930

"Maidin bhreá Fhómair dom cops mórshruth na méithbhreac
I gcoill chluthair cheolmhair is gan leoithne sna spéarthaibh, 
An lon dubh is an smóilín go beolbhinn ar séideadh,
Gach fás crainn go leor ann is cnó buí in a slaodaibh.
Ag dearcadh whom tharam ba thaitneamhach limo
Ar Dhá Chích Danann ag amharc anon
Is síbhrat na maidne leabhar leata os a gcionn,
Chomh bleachmhar buan bláfar, chomh hálainn in ógchruth"
(Is bhíodar an lá tar éis lámh an Chrúthóra.)

"One beautiful autumn morning beside the great stream of the fertile plain
In a cosy musical wood not a breeze in the sky,
The blackbird and the thrush piping sweetly,
Every growing tree there hanging with ripe nuts.
Looking around me it delighted me
The two breasts of Danann
The mysterious fairy mist spread over them,
As beautiful as the top of the milk that nurtures the child"
(As if they were that day created by God.) ?

Prose translation by Seámus Ó Ceallaháin

Saturday, March 2, 2013

02 - 2013

My Being Over Seventy

The joys of being over seventy are plentiful

a Forgetful memory is a boon at times
for I can claim to have done what 
I might have done or even did not.

the Hearing is another one won no need
to obey every request - formal or not
I can go on my way in merry innocence.

lack of Strength is another I can use
if an item has to be lifted or moved, then 
to every end I shall abuse.

None of the above is actually true
other than the first line.

My appreciations are simple: a fondness
of Beauty naked or clothed, 
Luscious lips
on which to give a fond kiss, 

Full moons
when I pretend to be demented and get 
away with naughty things. 

finally a Glass of fruity brandy because it makes
me R . . . y!

© MRL 02 - 03 - 13