‘Geasa’, le Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill.

Geasa/The Bond
 
Má chuirim aon lámh ar an dtearmann beannaithe,
má thógaim droichead thar an abhainn,
gach a mbíonn tógtha isló ages na ceardaithe
bíonn sé leagtha ar maidin romham.
 
Tagann  aníos an abhainn istoíche bád
is bean ina seasamh  inti.
Tá coinneal ar lasadh ina súil is ina lámha.
Tá dhá mhaide rámha  aici.
 
Tairrigíonn sí amach paca cartaí,
‘An imréofá brieth?’  a deireann sí.
Imrímid is buann sí orm de shíor
is cuireann sí de cheist, de bhreith is de mhórualach orm
 
Gan an tarna béile a ithe in aon tigh,
ná an tarna oíche a chaitheamh faoi aon díon,
gan dhá shraic chodlata a dhéanamh ar aon leaba
go bhfaighead í.  Nuair a fhiafraím di cá mbíonn sí,
 
‘Dá mba siar é soir, ‘ a deireann sí, ‘dá mba soir é sior.’
Imíonn sí léi agus splancacha tintrí léi
is fágtar ansan mé ar an bport.
Tá an dá choinneal fós ar lasadh le mo thaobh.
 
D’fhág sí na maidi rámha agam.’

Geasa,  le Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill,  as Pharaoh’s Daughter.  Gallery Press. 1990. This poem is from Pharaoh’s Daughter by Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill, 1990, Gallery Press (Editor Peter Fallon).  With thanks to Gallery Press for permission to reproduce here.

I have added poet Medbh McGuckian‘s translation at link http://poethead.wordpress.com/2011/12/17/the-bond-by-nuala-ni-dhomhnaill/

‘The Pharaoh’s Daughter ‘, Gallery Press,1990.

The Bond, by Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill, translated by Medbh McGuckian.

Rendevous , by Elisaveta Bagyrana.

” I discovered your footprints in the sand and to get there sooner
I ran legs sinking at the knees, and fell from exhaustion,
and when I climbed the hill – in astonishment I was calling,
as if I’d seen you for the first time on that unforgettable evening.

 
You filled the entire horizon, for then you seemed enormous,
with hair in the clouds,  feet on the shore.
And you saw me and reached for me -
as if you sought to embrace the universe – everything …
 
Listen to my heartbeat, see the tears in my eyes
and remember – no  one has ever embraced me like this,
nor have I embraced anyone ever- like this.
 
And if at this moment my joy lowers the scales
and God wants to shorten the thread of my days,
I shall extend my arm to Him asking for supreme grace. “
 

1927, Elisaveta Bagranya,  Trans  Belin Tonchev.
from Elisvatea Bagyrana , Penelope Of the Twentieth Century. Publ. Forest Books 1993.

Máthair Chréafóige, by Helen Soraghan Dwyer.

Earth Mother

for Firoana.

” The plains of Romania
Under thirty degrees of heat
Stretch to the poplar trees
At the edge of the earth.
.
A weathered peasant lady
Offers me water,
Her toothless smile
Mothers me
As I rest in the shade.
.
She is a daughter of this soil,
Of sun and sweat and toil.
I am from a city
She will never visit.
.
As I return her smile
And sip her water
She is every woman’s mother,
I am every woman’s daughter.
.

from Still, by Helen Soraghan Dwyer.

.

Máthair Chréafóige

do Firoana

” Machairí na Rómáine
I mbrothall an lae
Síneann go poibleoga bhána
Ar imeall an domhain.
.
Bean chríonna tuaithe
A thairgeann deoch dom,
Miongháire mantach
Dom mhúirniú
Istigh faoin bhfothain.
.
Iníon chréafóige í,
Iníon allais is gréine.
Ón gcathair nach bhfeicfir choíche
Is ea do thángas.
.
Aoibh ormsa leis
Ag ól uisce,
Iníon cách mise,
Máthair cách í siúd.”

as Faire, le Helen Soraghan Dwyer. Lapwing Publications, Belfast 2010.

Note about the Book.

I picked up this book and another volume of women’s poetry on Saturday , in my local bookshop. The poetry section is well-balanced and stocked. As I have not asked permission to advertise the shop,  so I won’t name the wonderful proprietor yet. Suffice it to say that she also does  some excellent internet ordering ,  and has some  independently bound essays which are virtually impossible to get in Ireland. I shall edit this with a link to catalogues in the near future.

Máthair Chréafóige – Earth Mother ‘ by Helen Soraghan Dwyer. From Still – Faire. Trans, Bernadette Nic an tSaoir . Lapwing Publications 2010.


Two Book Versions of Julian of Norwich’s Revelation

Julian at Norwich Cathedral

Middle English is not so Difficult…

I thought I had found a treasure today whilst browsing in my local bookshop and coming upon a ‘modernish’ version of the Revelations (shewings of ) Julian of Norwich.  Not so!! The book is a 1987 imprint which seeks (or sought) to bring the writings of the Anchoress at Norwich Cathedral to a wider audience, whilst sacrificing the beauty of her poetry to a clunky co-option of her unique expression. I am not opposed to the book per se, but would question the use of an editor (or set thereof) rather than working from the beautiful editing of the definitive book on Julian which captures her voice in all its sublimity,

Julian of Norwich, A Revelation of Love. University of Exeter Press, Ed Marian Glasscoe.

I thought for a while about how I would present what is my opinion on the matter of loss in translation, and in how wide dissemination of literature can sacrifice so much in what is an attempt to frame a book and reach an audience that may be unused to the language of Julian. It is highly beneficial for the reader to attempt to read some work in the original.

 The Glasscoe version has an excellent introduction and glossary , which aids in one’s ability to work through this highly original work of a woman from the Middle Ages. The clunky and appalling book which I actually bought and will not name here had somehow managed to take the light right out of this seminal work of literature, so I am not going to name the version, editors or imprint. There are two pieces on Poethead about Julian already, both of which I will attach as link at the end of this piece. One is a discussion on the use of the word Shewings, which is how Julian of Norwich described her visions (in the language of the mid-wife), the other is an excerpt from the Glasscoe. To demonstrate the cause of the headache the book caused in me, I am excerpting two short pieces here. The first are from the UEP (Glasscoe Edition, 1976), the second is a modernist version of Julian which fills out her words to accomodate a modern audience who may not want to bothering themselves with attempting to read in the original adapted version.

And when I was thirty yers old and halfe God sent me a bodely sekeness in which I lay iii days and iii nights ; and on the fourth night I tooke all my rites and wened not a levyed till day. And after this Iangorid forth ii days and ii nights. And on the iii night I wened oftentimes to passyd and so wened they that were with me. And in youngith yet, I thought great sweemeto dye; but for nothing [that] earth that me lekid to levin for .”

Revelation 3, Julian of Norwich, A Revelation of Love. University of Exeter Press, Ed Glasscoe,


Then when I was 31 years old God sent me a physical illness and I lay in its grip three days and three nights. On the fourth night I received all the rites of the holy church and did not expect to see the next day. I Lingered on for two more days and nights and on the third night I was convinced that I would die and so were all those around me.”

The example is not the best because it is not her visions but the structuring of the editing of the second version is pretty obvious. The first link attached herein gives a longer excerpt of Julian’s writing :

Some comments on the translation process of ‘An Duanaire, Poems of the Dispossessed’

Often when I write (or speak) about the poetic translation process, which I have done in two posts above quite recently, I have mentioned the necessity of sympathetic or collaborative translation processes. The two links in question will be added in at the end of this short post; UBUWEB and Homad , Ethnopoetics and Translation (i) and Translation and Linguistic Rights (ii).,  make mention of the process involved in translation and dissemination of literature, in the face of some problems such as digitisation and author property rights. (including appalling clunky  non-collaborative online translations).

Delighted I was this morning to find an old copy of the PIR (Poetry Ireland Review , Ed. Liam Ó Muirthile. publ 1996) in which Thomas Kinsella discusses ’Translations from the Irish’ . I do know that the PIR is available Via Poetry Ireland Online, so its worth a search to look at some of the writer and writing process interviews that occupy a quantity of space in the review.

The Kinsella interview is quite short but does discuss some of his projects in detail including the process of translating one of my favourite books , An Duanaire, Poems of the Dispossessed 1600-1900. (there’s a link to that attached at the end of this post).

Kinsella also discusses translating Táin Bó Cuailgne , which many people are familiar with due to the work of Le Brocquy in illustration. These books, in translation comprise my recommended reading for this Wednesday.