The Miraculous Parish / An Paróiste Míorúilteach

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Máire Mhac an tSaoi An paróiste míorúilteach The miraculous parish Rogha dánta Selected poems

In eagar ag Louis de Paor Edited by Louis de Paor

Cló Iar-Chonnacht Indreabhán Conamara


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poems 39


OĂ­che Nollag Le coinnle na n-aingeal tĂĄ an spĂŠir amuigh breactha, Adaigh an tine is tĂŠir chun na leapan,

Fågaig’ an doras ar leathadh ina coinne, An mhaighdean a thiocfaidh is a naí ar a hucht, Deonaigh scíth an bhóthair a ligint, a Mhuire, Luíodh Mac DÊ ins an tigh seo anocht. Bhí soilse ar lasadh i dtigh sin na haíochta, Cóiriú gan caoile, bia agus deoch, Do cheannaithe olla, do cheannaithe síoda,

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Christmas Eve With candles of angels the sky is now dappled, The frost on the wind from the hills has a bite, ! Jesus will lie in this household tonight. Leave all the doors wide open before her, The Virgin who’ll come with the child on her breast, Grant that you’ll stop here tonight, Holy Mary, That Jesus a while in this household may rest. The lights were all lighting in that little hostel, There were generous servings of victuals and wine, For merchants of silk, for merchants of woollens, But Jesus will lie in this household tonight. (GF)

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Do ShĂ­le CuimhnĂ­m ar sheomra Ăł thaobh na farraige, Aniar is aneas do bheireadh scrĂ­b air, Is bĂĄisteach ar fhuinneoig ina clagarnaigh, Gan sĂĄnas air Ăł thitim oĂ­che, Is is cuimhin liom go rabhais ann, a ShĂ­le, Suite go hĂ­seal cois na tine Is an fĂĄinne Ăłir ar do mhĂŠir linbh. Do thugais dĂşinn amhrĂĄn croĂ­bhuartha, " ! # $

Comharthaí grå ón bhFrainc ar cuairt chughainn – Bhí gile do chinn mar an t-airgead luachra FÊ sholas an lampa leagtha ar bord ann. Nach cuma feasta, a naí bhig, eadrainn Deighilt na mblianta nó fuatha an charadais? Dob Ê mo dhån an tråth san t’aithne.

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For Sheila I remember a room on the seaward side – The squall caught it from the south-west – And rain a tattoo on the window Unslackening since the fall of night, And I remember that you were there, Sheila, % & ! ' You gave us a heartbroken song * & + # Love’s catalogue brought here from France – The fairness of your head was like the meadowsweet Under the light of the lamp set on the table. What do they matter more, little dear one, between us, Separation of years, and aversions bred of friendship? It was my lot to know you at that time. (VI)

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Comhrá ar shráid Ar leacacha na sráide Nuair tharla ort an lá san Do labhrais chugham chomh tláith sin Am fhiafraí go muinteartha Gur bhog an t-aer im thimpeall, Aer bocht leamh na cathrach, Le leoithne bhog aniar chughainn Ó dhúthaigh cois farraige Inar chuireas ort aithne . . . An tsiúráil réidh sin, Fios do bhéasa féin agat, Teann as do Ghaelainn, As do dheisbhéalaí Mhín chúirtéisigh – Ní leanbh ó aréir mé, A Chiarraígh shéimh sin, Ach creid mé gur fhéadais Mé a chur ó bhuíochas Mo dhaoine féinig.

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Street-talk / # That day we happened to meet You spoke to me so kindly Asking courteously how I was, That the air softened around me, The dull impoverished city air, With a little breeze you brought From the west, from that place 6 & " ' & And knowing how to behave, Certain of your language, Your gentle wit and Courtly ability with it – I was not born yesterday, My gracious Kerry friend, But believe me you could have Turned me away from My nearest and dearest. (LP)

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