OILEÁN

Un testo irlandese ( con sotto la traduzione inglese) di una delle mie poetesse preferite...

Buon S. Valentino!

OILEÁN

le Nuala Ní Dhomhaill

Oileán is ea do chorp
í lár na mara móire.
Tá do ghéaga spréite ar bhraillín
gléigeal os farraige faoileán.

Toibreacha fíoruisce iad t’uisí
tá íochtar fola orthua is uachtar meala.
Thabharfaidís fuarán dom
í lár mo bheirfin
is deoch slánithe
sa bhfiabhras.

Tá do dhá shúil
mar locha sléibhe
lá breá Lúnasa
nuair a bhíonn an spéir
ag glinniúint sna huiscí.
Giolcaigh scubacha iad t’fhabhraí
ag fás faoina gciumhais.

Is dá mbeadh agam báidín
chun teacht faoi do dhéin,
báidín fiondruine,
gan barrchleite amach uirthi
n&aacucte; bunchleite isteach uirthi
ach aon chleite amháin
droimeann dearg
ag déanamh ceoil
dom fhéin ar bord,

thógfainn suas
na seolta boga bána
bogóideacha; threabhfainn
trí fharraigí arda

is thiocfainn chughat
mar a luíonn tú
uigneach, iathghlas,
oileánach.

---

ISLAND

by Nuala Ní Dhomhaill

Your body is an island
in the middle of the ocean.
Your splayed limbs on the sheets
are bright as gulls’ wings.

Your brow is a spring well
with blood in the depths and honey above.
You are a cooling fountain
in the sweltering heat
and a healing drink
to my fever.

Your two eyes
are mountain lakes
on a bright August afternoon
when the sky
glimmers in the water.
Your eyelashes are rushes
ringing the shore.

And if I had a little boat
to carry me to you,
a boat of findrinny,
with neither a top stitch

nor bottom stich out of place,
but a single feather
of white-backed red
to make my music
at sea,

to raise up
the soft white sales
full-bellied with wind; plowing
through high seas

and come beside you
where you lie back,
solitary, emerald,
islanded.