Dán le Liam Ó Flaithearta do hSeachtain na Gaeilge.
A poem by Liam Ó Flaithearta for Irish Week, translated by Pádraig O'Catháin (my Dad!) into English below.
Na Blátha Craige
Adúirt mé leis na blátha:
‘Nach suarach an áit a fuair sibh
Le bheith ag déanamh aeir,
Teannta suas anseo le bruach na haille,
Gan fúibh ach an chloch ghlas
Agus salachar na n-éan,
Áit bhradach, lán le ceo
Agus farraige cháite,
Ní scairteann grian anseo
Ó Luan go Satharn
Le gliondar a chur oraibh.'
Adúirt na blátha craige:
‘Is cuma linn, a stór,
Táimid faoi dhraíocht
Ag ceol na farraige.'
The Rock Flowers
Said I to the rock flowers:
‘Isn’t it a miserable place you've found
To be out in the air,
Stuck up here at the edge of a cliff,
With nothing beneath you only the bare stone
And the bird's droppings,
A wretched place, full of fog
And sea spray,
The sun never shines here
From Monday to Saturday
To enhearten you’.
Replied the rock flowers:
‘We don't mind, sweetheart,
We are spellbound
by the music of the sea.’