I came across a web page on which a person has posted ...translations of medieval Irish poetry. For some reason, this one caught my eye. English translation follows the Irish.
|
Mo-chean do theacht, a sgadáin Gan ainm |
Medieval Irish Poetry posted & translated by Maureen S. O'Brien Ceann Coradh |
| My love for coming, herring! - translation by Maureen S. O'Brien |
Mo-chean do theacht, a sgadáin,
druid liom, a dhaltáin uasail;
do chéad beatha 's do shláinte!
do thuillis fáilte uamsa.
Dar anam h'athar, a sgadáin,
gidh maith bradáin na Bóinne
is duit labras an duain-se,
ó's tú is uaisle 's is óige.
A fhir is comhghlan colann,
nách déanann comann bréige,
cara mar thú ní bhfuaras;
ná bíom suarach fá chéile.
Dá bhféachdaois uaisle Banbha
cia is mó tarbha don triúr-sa,
iasg is uaisle ná an sgadán,
idir bradán is liúsa.
Is é ar bhféachain gach cósta
go crích bhóchna na Gréige,
iasg is uaisle ná an sgadán
ní bhfuair Conán Chinn-tsléibhe.
A sgadáin shéimh shúgaigh,
a chinn chumhdaigh an Charghais,
a mhic ghrádhaigh mo charad,
leam is fada go dtángais!
Gidh mór do thuit a-nuraidh
dod ghaol bunaidh fán méis-se,
ná cuimhnigh fíoch ná fala,
ó's tú cara na cléire.
A sgadáin shailltigh shuilbhir
nach bíonn go duilbhir dúinte,
leamsa do theacht ní hanait,
súil ar charaid an tsúil-se.
I dtús an Charghais chéasta,
a fhir le ndéantar comhól,
ortsa, go teacht na Cásga,
is mór mo ghrása 's is romhór.
By my father's soul, herring,
the salmon of the Boyne was good,
but for laurel, the poem [is] yours;
for you are noble and pure.
(O men, [who] are pure flesh,
do not make false community)
A friend like you is not cold,
nor is mean [to] a companion.
If [I] consider noble Banba,
who is my bull [from] your three --
a fish [as] noble as the herring,
between the salmon and the pike?
He is watching every coast
to the border of the Greeks' ocean --
a fish [as] noble as the herring
Conán of Ceann Sléibhe didn't find.
Gentle, merry herring,
head keeping Lent,
beloved boy, my friend,
with you it is long till [thinness?]
[It] was great, last year, to reveal
the stock of [your] kin by my dish --
not remembering feud or grudge,
because of you, friend of clerics.
Salty, flashing-eyed herring,
you haven't been desired by people.
When coming with me, we don't wait --
my eye is an eye in friendship.
In you, the crucifixion of Lent --
(Men with me, keep [drinking together?])
for this, till the coming of Easter,
my own love is great and is very great.
