|Posted on Thursday, January 11, 2001 - 09:59 am: ||
Would someone be so kind to help me translate this. I have been struggling with it. Thank you.
Do mo Bheanchéile ar a bheith pósta triocadh is a chúig bliana úinn
Is mé in-acrann na mblianta a mhaoineach
gráim thú níos mó,
Ná an tráth úd 'nar dhearcas go caoin tú
i Halla na Muintire fadó,
An t-snaidhm sin bhí eadrainn go gramhar
a rún-dhíl ná sasoilfear go deo;
A rí-bhean do chlannaigh buíon álainn dom
plúr na mBan agus scoth na bFhearóg.
Seachtar fé bhláth go tláth is I ndeiseach
Triúr cailin' breá fé gradam is áilleach
Ceathrar fear slachtmhar ná staonfadh i
ngleic ná i ngleo,
Gura buan iad a máthair, mo chuisle, mo
thaisce is mo stór.
Aonghus (vpn.parthus.com - 184.108.40.206)
|Posted on Monday, January 15, 2001 - 04:22 am: ||
My own loose translation, there are several typos in your Irish:
For my Wife, on our being married thirty five years
o Treasure, Now that I am in the difficult years
I love you more
than that time long ago when I looked lovingly upon you
in the peoples hall,
The knot that was lovingly between us, o my love, will never be loosened
O queen of women who bore me a beautiful bunch,
the flower of womenhood and the best of young men
There are seven of them living in their flower, quietly and well
Three fine girls, dignified and beautiful of manner
Four clean limbed men, who will not falter in combat of noise
May their mother, my treasure my darling and my love, live long.
(Compared with the Irish my English translation sounds trite and pale. Translation of poetry is a fine art, and I am at best a poor craftsman).
|Posted on Tuesday, January 16, 2001 - 01:35 pm: ||
Thank you - I do appreciate your help.