Poems in the Irish Language with English Translations
Irish Language Poems
Brionglóideanna de Bhaldraithe
Brionglóideanna de Bhaldraithe Tá sé folamh, an bóthar anocht, Níl aon cheol, níl aon spraoi, Na cailíní óga , Ní go maith ag damhsa a bhfuil siad. Níl na buachaillí móra ag imirt, Peil agus iomáiníocht i rith an lae, Agus ní raibh siad ag casadh poirt,, Níl éinne aon a chloiseann é. Ní labhraíonn na seandaoine anois, Faoi na Fianna lena páistí óga, Caitheann siad iad amach, Nuair nach bhfuil ach poll sna bróga. Na cailíní áileann ag damhsa, Lán le bréag, níl siad fir, Tá an bóthar folamh anocht, Sa Tuaisceart agus san Iarthar. Tá na buachaillí sa teach tábhairne, Iad ag ól arís, Ag breathnú ar pheil Sasanach, ‘s ag canadh ‘s ag scréach ag an teilifís. Ní úsáideann na seandoine a dteanga Nuair atá siad ag caint le h-aon duine, Usáideann siad béarla, Agus féachann isteach sa tine. Agus an ghrian ina codladh is t-oíche, Tá rás an lae críochnaithe, Feicimid brionglóidí de Bhaldraithe: Is bréag iad…tá siad briste...maraithe The Dreams of De Valera It is empty, the road now There is no music, or sport The young girls, beautiful At dance, they are not. The boys, big, are not playing Football and hurling during the day And they are not singing the songs There’s no-one that hears it. The old people are not talking now Of the Fianna to the young children And today they throw out When there’s a small hole in a shoe The beautiful girls that are dancing They are false, are not true The road is empty tonight In the north and the west. The boys are in the tavern They are drinking again Looking at English football Singing and shouting at the television. The old people use not their language When they are talking to anyone They use the English And look into the fire. When the sun is sleeping at night And finished for the day is its race We see the dreams of De Valera: They are false… broken… and dead.
Aphrodite ag Snámh /Aphrodite Swiming
A swimming lady in the Shannon once caught my eye while passing
Aniar a fhéachann an Bhean Amach / Out West Looks the Lady
A lady walking by the seashore is not as she first appears
Bean an Tí / The Housewife
Once I read in a paper how a housewife reamt of things turning out differently, but though she often thinks how things might have been, she would not have changed it for the world.
Amach a Tháinig Siad
During creation, the flies flew elegantly, and were grateful for the ability to fly. The birds, being hungry and jealous of the beauty of the flies grace promtly eat them. An alternative version of the cration story!!!
<Deleted User> (4281)
Tue 15th Apr 2008 19:04
Hello, Tomas
You are doing great translating from one language to another. I was not aware of Ireland having own Language...Interesting!
GREAT WRITE!
Regards,
Zuzanna Musial