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Tyrone
Member Username: Tyrone
Post Number: 1 Registered: 09-2007
| Posted on Thursday, October 18, 2007 - 08:48 pm: |
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This tattoo is for my nephew in music production, "After silence that which comes mearest to expressing the inexpressible is music" please help and translate. Go raibh maith agat. |
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Aonghus
Member Username: Aonghus
Post Number: 6351 Registered: 08-2004
| Posted on Friday, October 19, 2007 - 08:21 am: |
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Casta. (Difficult). I'll shorten it somwhat. Tost, nó Ceol a léiríonn an doléirithe *Tost,* nó Ceol * a léiríonn * an doléirithe *Silence * or music * it is which expresses * the inexpressible *
léiriú [ainm briathartha][ainmfhocal firinscneach] a dhéanamh léir, míniú; cur in ord, socrú (do chuid oibre a léiriú); críochnú (béile a léiriú); cur i láthair nó ar stáitse (dráma a léiriú). |
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Dennis
Member Username: Dennis
Post Number: 3273 Registered: 02-2005
| Posted on Wednesday, October 24, 2007 - 02:37 pm: |
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The "music speaks better than words" sentiment is expressed in the lovely short piece "Giotár" by Tadhg Mac Dhonnagáin on the "Imíonn an tAm" album. Here are the words and translation. A sample of the song can be heard at the iTunes store. Is breá liom a ghuth. Pillim ar m’árasán Tá sí romham ceaptha ag an lampa sráide Cuair a coirp ar mo leaba sínte Fonnadóir Francach ó Pháras postúil na bhfichidí “Labhair liom” a deir sí. “Labhair liom faoin oíche mhór lasmuigh Faoi bhlaosc gheal na gealaí Ina luí in uaigh dhubh na spéire Faoi na réaltóga ag dó go síoraí sa bhfuacht Bí ag bladaráil ar an gcaoi sin As seo go maidin más maith leat Ach fós ní bheidh a dhath ráite agat Nach gcuirfinnse díom in aon chorda amháin Corda chomh snoite le cloichín cladaigh Chomh so-aimsithe le nead na cuaiche. I come into the darkened bedsit By the street light I see her Her curvy body stretched on the bed A torch singer from Paris of the twenties “Speak” she says “Speak of the night outside The moon like a white skull Lying in the black grave above The stars burning in the frost Blather like that until morning if you like But you still won’t say anything I couldn’t say better with one chord A chord, sculpted like a pebble from the strand A chord, as easily found as the cuckoo’s nest. "An seanchas gearr, an seanchas is fearr."
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