Poem
Nuala Ní Chonchúir
A Kind of Forgery
I take your verse,slit it with my pen
to see what’s hidden
in its deep inside,
then I flip it over,
to winnow out
the secrets that
cower underneath.
Your thoughts
I transmogrify,
stripping them back
to a primitive form,
then I cloak them
in another lexicon,
hanging a new flesh
on older bones.
Each phrase matters
if not each word.
© Translation: 2007, Nuala Ní Chonchúir
From: Tattoo : Tatú
Publisher: Arlen House, Galway, 2007
From: Tattoo : Tatú
Publisher: Arlen House, Galway, 2007
Falsaíocht
Falsaíocht
Tógaim do dhán,scoiltim le mo pheann é,
chun an méid
atá ceilte
a thochailt amach,
iompaím bun os cionn é
chun breathnú ar a bhfuil
i bhfolach faoina bhun.
Claochlaím
do smaointe,
tá siad anois
nochta, bunúsaithe,
ceilim faoi
fhoclóir nua iad,
craiceann úr ar
sheanchnámha.
Tá gach frása trom
mura bhfuil gach focal.
© 2007, Nuala Ní Chonchúir
From: Tattoo : Tatú
Publisher: Arlen House, Galway
From: Tattoo : Tatú
Publisher: Arlen House, Galway
Poems
Poems of Nuala Ní Chonchúir
Close
A Kind of Forgery
I take your verse,slit it with my pen
to see what’s hidden
in its deep inside,
then I flip it over,
to winnow out
the secrets that
cower underneath.
Your thoughts
I transmogrify,
stripping them back
to a primitive form,
then I cloak them
in another lexicon,
hanging a new flesh
on older bones.
Each phrase matters
if not each word.
© 2007, Nuala Ní Chonchúir
From: Tattoo : Tatú
Publisher: 2007, Arlen House, Galway
From: Tattoo : Tatú
Publisher: 2007, Arlen House, Galway
A Kind of Forgery
I take your verse,slit it with my pen
to see what’s hidden
in its deep inside,
then I flip it over,
to winnow out
the secrets that
cower underneath.
Your thoughts
I transmogrify,
stripping them back
to a primitive form,
then I cloak them
in another lexicon,
hanging a new flesh
on older bones.
Each phrase matters
if not each word.
© 2007, Nuala Ní Chonchúir
From: Tattoo : Tatú
Publisher: 2007, Arlen House, Galway
From: Tattoo : Tatú
Publisher: 2007, Arlen House, Galway
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