Translation to English by Gréagóir O’ Dúill:
so shadows do not lair or wheel,
light comes over my shoulder to my page.
One evening’s reading (R. S. Thomas and a tearful sunset)
is punctuated by a dull, an unexplainable sudden thud.
Not a blinding flash of inspiration, heart incident
nor the anti-aircraft battery too close
to Fürtwangler’s Berlin
Just thud. I lower my head, go back to the hill-country
and the poet-priest with whom I have some sympathy.
In the morning I see the eastern window
has a small circle of neck-down, fawn, beige and brown, adhering.
My sight line shows, through double-glazing twice,
the line of hills where mythic sunset fooled a small, keen bird
who – whether living now, or dead – does not understand.
Fuinneoga an tSeomra Úir
Trí bhalla úra ar an tseomra úr, fuinneog ar gach ceann
Ionas nach gceiltear scáil, nach léimeann scáth,
Go mbíonn an solas ina thuile thar mo ghualainn ar an leathanach anuas.
Tráthnóna, mé ag léamh R. S. Thomas de sholas deormhar luí na gréine
Buaileann tuairt bheag tholl nach dtuigim, tuairt thobann amháin.
Ní splanc na hionsparáide é, ní buille fabhtach croí
Ná airtléire fritheitleáin róghar don choirm cheoil
Ag Furtwangler, Beirlín, 1944.
Tuairt bheag – b’shin a raibh ann. Íslím mo cheann arís,
Fillim ar chnoic agus ar an tsaothar sin le sagart-fhile,
Filíocht an chreidimh amhrasaigh a bhfuil dúil agam ann.
Ar maidin, feicim ag greamú leis an fhuinneog thoir
Fáinne beag de chlúmh muineáil, donn agus rua.
Amharcaim an líne dhíreach chun na gcnoc
Tré dhá fhuinneog dhúbáilte, a chuir dallamullóg
Ar éan beag a chonaic luí neamhaí na gréine, is a chreid ann.
Bíodh beo nó marbh anois é, níor thuig,
Ní thuigeann.
From the collection ‘New Room Windows’
The title poem was reproduced in Gréagóir O’ Dúill’s 9th collection, ‘Dan Nollag faoin Samhradh’.
Published by Doghouse Books, Tralee , 2008.
Published by Cosceim in 2010.
Copyright: Gréagóir O’ Dúill (Author)
No comments:
Post a Comment