Sular ghliúc
súile uaine
an nathar nimhe
san uaigneas

bhí rincí fada Andalúiseacha
cíortha cnáimh
is gúnaí tafata
ag déanamh glóir
mar thor cabáiste
sular ghliúc na súile uaine.

Sular lúb sé
lúb na lúibe
síos ar bhrainse
na n-úll cumhra

bhí hataí péacacha
faoi chleití piasún
is bataí droighin
faoi lámhchrainn éabhair
bhí caillí láis
is drithliú ar éadach
sular lúb sé síos ar ghéag ann.

Sular ith sé
greim den úll ann

bhí cnaipí ag oscailt
i ndiaidh a chéile
bhí cabhail á nochtadh
faoi scáilí oíche
bhí gruaig rua
ar gach lánún ann
is iad ag péinteáil breicní
ar a chéile
le gathanna gréine;
ag miongháirí
sular bhain sé greim den úll ann.

Ach anois
tá an ghreim bainte
an t-úll ite
ag chnuimh ginte
ár cosa nite
is táimid luite
sa dorchadas síoraí
mar a bhfuil gol is gárthaíl
is díoscán fiacal
go heireaball timpeall.

The Green Eyes
trans., Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill

there were long Andalusian dances
combs of bone
and dresses of taffeta
making swishing sounds
like leaves of cabbage
before the green eyes gleamed.

Before he looped
the loop of the loop
down the sweet scented apple-branch

there were jaunty hats
with pheasant feathers
blackthorn sticks
with tops of ivory,
veils of lace
and shimmering dresses
before he looped along the branch there.

Before he took
a bite of the apple
there were buttons being opened
one after another
bodies being unclothed
in night-shadows,
every couple was red-haired
and busily painting freckles
on each other
with shafts of sunlight
laughingly,
before he took a bite of the apple.

But now
the bite is bitten
the apple is eaten
the maggot begotten
our feet finally bathed
and we are lying
in the eternal darkness
where there is crying and wailing
and gnashing of teeth
in seculorum.