Caoineadh Baoi

Oisín Ó Muirthile

Mise Cailleach Oileán Baoi,

Ó iathaibh glasa scoite, monuar,

I m’aonar amuigh ar fhiacharraig fhuar;

Gan agam de mhaoin

Ach trí seascaígh,

Ar téad ón mórthír

Le luasc-bhosca ar foluain...

Banríon mheách a bhí ionam, tráth;

Breac le bailte is túir mo bhréid.

Ach sa Mhórchogadh, ba chuma é:

Chan beaignití,

Caitheadh mo leanaí

Le faill, mo dhíth!

Dhein giobail dem’ léin’...

Ainimhe gallchluichte eile orm, ach

Ceal croí, is ea téann an áille amú.

Tiomnaíodh mo scáil ina páirc, airiú,

Don ghluaisrothaí

Is carabhán spraoi,

Ag diúgadh mo bhí

Ar nós na gcearbhán máguaird...

Mise Cailleach Oileán Baoi,

Múchadh m’uile léaró, mo chrá,

Mé tréigthe caoch i gcionn cloch-áil,

Anois go líona

Aníos deoirdhíle,

Mar a mbáfar mo chaoineadh

Don ré a cailleadh gan bharr...

Dursey’s Lament

I am the Hag of Dursey Isle,

From emerald fields, alack, cast off,

Alone on a windswept, wilding rock;

With naught of chattel

But three dry cattle,

And tethered o’er channel

By a swinging swaying box...

I once reigned proud a meaded queen;

Wore patchwork towns and turret castle.

But to the Long War, it did not matter:

The bayonets sung,

My children were flung

O’er cliffs, so young!

Tore my smock in tatters...

I since bore others’ ruinous wiles,

But beauty is void bereft of heart.

My hollowed relic makes a park

For motor-hog treads,

Caravans, and tents

To drink my dregs

Like the basking sharks...

I am the Hag of Dursey Isle,

All glimmers of my life waste cold,

Forsaken blind to raise old stones,

Till tear-floods rise

And sink my sighs

For times ne’er nigh,

When I’ll weep some more...