Poem
Colm Breathnach
THROUGH THE SPECKLED LAND
IShe won’t speak to me anymore, this place
my tongue is received with poor grace.
My roots penetrated only so far
and they wither for lack of water.
Salt was spread on the upper scraw
and ploughed through to the lower layer.
She can no longer nourish her brood,
In my own land as a stranger viewed.
II
On the road between two cities
each of which has two names,
I read the words on the signs.
I am travelling through the speckled land
and every town here has two names.
Claonadh – Clane
Cill Dara – Kildare
Baile Dháith – Littleton
Cúil an tSúdaire – Portarlington
the native name
in italic script
a biased telling of the lore of place
the native name
in the lesser script
a muted telling, in slow fade . . .
III
As I travel through the speckled land
I move from white to black
my journey is taken aslant
the way I follow is zig-zagged.
I am the knight going the long way round
to attack from behind, to try to confound
but there are castles I can’t assault
and clerics before me, proud and preening,
I can’t protect my own queen even
my road is blocked by lowly pawns.
IV
Between two hues
between two names
between two views
between two words
between two tongues
between two worlds
I live my life
between two lives.
© Translation: 2007, Colm Breathnach
Trén bhFearann Breac
Trén bhFearann Breac
INí labhraíonn sí a thuilleadh liom, an áit seo,
Is níl aon bhuanaíocht ag mo theanga níos mó inti.
Níor chuaigh mo phréamhacha síos ach fad áirithe
is táid ag dreo anois cheal taca uaithi.
Caitheadh salann ar an scraith uachtair
is treabhadh síos é go dtí an t-íochtar.
Ní féidir léi tál a thuilleadh ar a muirín
ar mo thalamh féin is fás coimhthíoch mé.
II
Ar an mbóthar idir dhá chathair
go bhfuil dhá ainm ar gach ceann acu
léim na focail ar na comharthaí.
Táim ag taisteal trén bhfearann breac
is tá dhá ainm ar gach baile ann
Claonadh – Clane
Cill Dara – Kildare
Baile Dháith – Littleton
Cúil an tSúdaire – Portarlington
an t-ainm dúchais
sa chló iodálach
claoninsint ar stair na háite,
an t-ainm dúchais
sa chló is lú
faoninsint ag dul ó chlos . . .
III
Ag taisteal dom trén bhfearann breac
téim ón dubh go dtí an geal
ag gluaiseacht ar m’aistear claon
is fiar é an bealach a théim.
Is mé an ridire a ghabhann an timpeall
d’fhonn teacht de ruathar aniar aduaidh
ach tá caisleáin ann nach n-ionsód
is cléirigh romham gur mór a mbród
mo ríon féin is baolach nach gcosnód,
táim teanntaithe ag ceithearnaigh sa ród.
IV
Idir dhá dhath
idir dhá fhocal
idir dhá ainm
idir dhá aigne
idir dhá áit
idir dhá theanga
a chaithim mo shaol
idir dhá shaol.
© 1992, Colm Breathnach
From: An Fearann Breac
Publisher: Coiscéim, Dublin
From: An Fearann Breac
Publisher: Coiscéim, Dublin
Poems
Poems of Colm Breathnach
Close
THROUGH THE SPECKLED LAND
IShe won’t speak to me anymore, this place
my tongue is received with poor grace.
My roots penetrated only so far
and they wither for lack of water.
Salt was spread on the upper scraw
and ploughed through to the lower layer.
She can no longer nourish her brood,
In my own land as a stranger viewed.
II
On the road between two cities
each of which has two names,
I read the words on the signs.
I am travelling through the speckled land
and every town here has two names.
Claonadh – Clane
Cill Dara – Kildare
Baile Dháith – Littleton
Cúil an tSúdaire – Portarlington
the native name
in italic script
a biased telling of the lore of place
the native name
in the lesser script
a muted telling, in slow fade . . .
III
As I travel through the speckled land
I move from white to black
my journey is taken aslant
the way I follow is zig-zagged.
I am the knight going the long way round
to attack from behind, to try to confound
but there are castles I can’t assault
and clerics before me, proud and preening,
I can’t protect my own queen even
my road is blocked by lowly pawns.
IV
Between two hues
between two names
between two views
between two words
between two tongues
between two worlds
I live my life
between two lives.
© 2007, Colm Breathnach
From: An Fearann Breac
From: An Fearann Breac
THROUGH THE SPECKLED LAND
IShe won’t speak to me anymore, this place
my tongue is received with poor grace.
My roots penetrated only so far
and they wither for lack of water.
Salt was spread on the upper scraw
and ploughed through to the lower layer.
She can no longer nourish her brood,
In my own land as a stranger viewed.
II
On the road between two cities
each of which has two names,
I read the words on the signs.
I am travelling through the speckled land
and every town here has two names.
Claonadh – Clane
Cill Dara – Kildare
Baile Dháith – Littleton
Cúil an tSúdaire – Portarlington
the native name
in italic script
a biased telling of the lore of place
the native name
in the lesser script
a muted telling, in slow fade . . .
III
As I travel through the speckled land
I move from white to black
my journey is taken aslant
the way I follow is zig-zagged.
I am the knight going the long way round
to attack from behind, to try to confound
but there are castles I can’t assault
and clerics before me, proud and preening,
I can’t protect my own queen even
my road is blocked by lowly pawns.
IV
Between two hues
between two names
between two views
between two words
between two tongues
between two worlds
I live my life
between two lives.
© 2007, Colm Breathnach
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