Recently in Irish love poems Category

Antoin Ó Raifteirí / Anthony Raftery
 

Máire Ní Eidhin   


Ar mo dhul chuig an Aifreann le toil na ngrásta,
Bhí an lá ag cur báistí is d'ardaigh gaoth,
Casadh an ainnir liom le taobh Chill Tartain
Is thit mé láithreach i ngrá le mnaoi.
Labhair mé léi go múinte mánla,
Is de réir a cáilíochta d'fhreagair sí,
'Sé dúirt sí - "Raifteirí, tá m'intinn sásta,
Agus gluais go lá liom go Baile Uí Laí."
Nuair a fuair mé an tairscint níor lig mé ar cairde í,
Rinne mé gáire agus gheit mo chroí,
Ní raibh le dul againn ach trasna páirce
Agus thug sin slán sinn go tóin an tí.
Leagadh chughainn bord a raibh gloine is cárta air,
Is bhí an chúileann fáinneach le m'ais ina suí,
'Sé dúirt sí - "Raifteirí, bí ag ól is céad fáilte,
Tá an siléar láidir i mBaile Uí Laí."

Poetic translation
 
The Lass from Bally-na-Lee

 

On my way to Mass

    To say a prayer,

The wind was high

    Sowing rain,

I met a maid

    With wind-wild hair

And madly fell

    In love again.

I spoke with learning,

    Charm and pride

And, as was fitting,

    Answered she:

'My mind is now

    well satisfied,

So walk with me

    To Bally-na-Lee.'

Given the offer,

    I didn't delay,

And blowing a laugh

    At this willing young lass,

I swung with her over

    The fields through the day

Till shortly we reached

    The rump of the house.

A table with glasses

    And drink was set

And then says the lassie,

    Turning to me:

'You are welcome, Raftery,

    So drink a wet

To love's demands

    In Bally-na-Lee.'

Seán Ó Neachtain

(c. 1650-1729)

 

Úrchnoc Chéin mhic Cáinte                                             

 

Rachainn fón choill leat a mhaighdean na n-órfholt,

ag féachain ar éanlaith 's ag éisteacht a gceolghob,

Beidh fidil at caoinche, beidh píop ag an smólach,

londubh ag cur cana le cláirsigh go ceolmhar.

 

Beidh liú ag an dreolán is órgán ag céirseach,

an fhuiseog 's an meantán 's a dtiompán go gleasta,

gealbhan sa tom glas 's a thrumpa ina bhéal-san,

ag bualadh puirt damhsa ré ansacht a chléibh duit.

 

Beidh cuilm agus fearáin ag crón ré chéile,

an truideog 's an sacán go cóngarach ag léimnigh,

cuach bheag na craoibhe go silleadh dod'fhéachain,

gearrghuirt is traona de shíor frat, a théagair. ...

 

Beidh an macalla inár n-aice-ne ag gáirí,

beidh na mná sí is braoine ar a gcláirsigh,

beidh an uile ní frat dar mian leat, a chathaigh,

godeo na díle ní scaoilfe mo pháirt leat.

 

Beidh dealramh na gréine ag sméideadh go drithleach

orainne féachaint trí ghéagaibh na coille,

drúilíní ag súgradh, ba chiúl leat an t-uisce,

éisc agus dobhráin ag comhspairn go cliste.

 

(An Freagra)

 

Rachaidh mé féin leat gan éaradh go súgach,

ag féachain 's ag éisteacht na n-éan sin ag súgradh,

céad fearr liom féin sin ná féasta na cúirte;

a ailleáin, is a théagair súd mé leat gan diúltadh.

 

 

The Lover's Invitation                                                                         

 

(This poem was said to have been composed for Una Ní Bhroin, who accepted Ó Neachtain and became his wife.)

 

          I would go to the wood with you, O golden-headed maiden,

looking at the birds and listening to the music of their mouths.

The nightingale will have a fiddle, the thrush will have a flute

and the blackbird will be chanting melodiously accompanied by a harp.

 

          The wren will have a lute and the hen-blackbird an organ

the lark and the titmouse will have their drums ready,

a sparrow in the green bush will have his trumpet [trump? =Jew's harp] in his mouth,

playing dance music because he loves you so much.

 

          Pigeons and doves will be cooing together,

the starling and the fieldfare will be hopping about close by,

the little cuckoo on the branch will be seeking to look at you,

and the corncrake will be always with you, my love. ...

 

          The echo will be laughing beside us,

the women from the fairy mounds and forts will play on harps;

all you wish will be there beside you, my temptress,

and till the end of time my love for you will never desert you.

 

          The sunlight will pour down on us

through the branches of the wood,

glittering droplets will play, the water will be your music

while the otters and fish cleverly wrestle together.

 

          (The reply)

 

I'll go with you merrily without refusing,

looking and listening to the birds at play.

I prefer that a hundred times to feasting at court;

my pet, and my beloved, I come with you without resistance.