Nuala ní Dhomhnaill, Brendan Behan -Two poems from the Irish

[dedalus]

Nuala ní Dhomhnaill (b. 1952) is an Irish-language poet notorious for her subversive handling of the Gaelic tradition. Since the 1970s she has taught her contemporaries that the best way to protect a tradition is to attack it. Here are two excerpts from "An Crann" (The Tree).

Do tháinig bean an leasa
le Black & Decker
do ghearr sí anuas mo chrann.
D'fhanas im óinseach ag féachaint uirthi
faid a bhearraigh sí na brainsí
ceann ar cheann.

The fairy woman came
with a Black and Decker
and she cut down my tree.
I stood with my mouth hanging open
while one by one
she trimmed off the branches.

(the speaker's husband comes out and asks how his wife would like it if he were to do the same to her; this she duly reports to the fairy woman)

"O", ar sise, "that's very interesting."
Bhí béim ar an very.
Bhí cling leis an -ing.
Do labhair sí ana-chiuin.
Bhuel, b'shin mo lá-sa,
Pé ar bith sa tsaol é,
iontaithe bunoscionn.
Thit an tóin as mo bholg
is faoi mar a ghebhainn lascadh cic
nó leacadar sna baotháin
ion taom anbhainne isteach orm
a dhein chomh lag san mé
gurb ar éigin a bhí ardu na méire ionam
as san go ceann trí lá.

Here is Paul Muldoon's translation:

"O", says she, "that's very interesting."
There was a stress on the "very".
She lingered over the "ing".
She was remarkably calm and collected.
These are the times that are in it, so,
all a bit topsy-turvy;
the bottom falling out of my belly,
as if I'd got a kick up the arse
or a punch in the kidneys.
A fainting-fit coming over me
that took the legs from under me
and left me so zonked
I could barely lift a finger
till Wednesday.

Brendan Behan (1923-64) is best known as a playwright, raconteur and heroic drinker (he died of the gargle at age 40) yet was also a very fine poet in the Irish language. According to the critic Declan Kiberd, he was "arguably the first poet to introduce the Imagist techniques of Ezra Pound and Hilda Dolittle to Irish, crossing them with those of the haiku".

Blas sméara dubh'
tréis báisteach
ar bharr an tsléibhe.

I dtost an phriosuin
feadail fhuar na treanach.
Cogar gáire beirt leannán
don aonarán.

The blackberries' taste
after rainfall
on the hilltop.

In the silence of the prison
the train's cold whistle.
The whisper of laughing lovers
to the lonely.

[twoleftfeet]

In the silence of the prison
the train's cold whistle.
The whisper of laughing lovers
to the lonely.

- wonderful image. (I was tempted to say captivating......)

[dedalus]

Yep - chained to the floor, so to speak.

[lars3939]

go han-maith

ps My Dad has a great anecdote about Behan not sure its PC as its "quasi" political but PM if you wish to hear...

[Amadeus]

Brendan - having only ever heard the Irish language spoken very briefly by a bard (can't remember his name, but he used to compose incredibly long, epic poems and commit tem to memory in much the same way as Homer, and he could only speak Gaelic), I can offer no comments on the accuracy of this translation, would would be enthralled if I where to here it spoken. I thin I can get some kind of jist as to how to pronounce the dialect, but being a Welsh speaker, I know that I am probaby way off in some parts.

I can see that you have expressed some care in your translation - especcially in lines such as T"he whisper of laughing lovers to the lonely." Wonderfully written.

The first poem 'An Crann' is incredible. I don't want to make any speculations yet until I think it through more, bt I will return and offer some opinions, and ask some uestions that are building up in my head, if you woud be so kind as to oblige me.

Regards

Gareth