Cuid a hAon: An Brollaġ Siúlann an file amaċ leis féin maidin ẛaṁraiḋ agus castar spéirḃean uafásaċ air. Sracann sí ina diaiḋ é tríd an laṫaċ go dtí Cnoc Ṁánṁaí áit a ḃfuil cúirt á stiúraḋ ag Aoiḃeal, ríon álainn na sí.

Part One: The Prologue The poet sets out alone on a summer morning and encounters a fearsome vision woman. She drags him through the mud to Monmoy Hill where a court is sitting presided over by Aoibheal, a beautiful fairy queen.

Ba ġnáṫ me ag siuḃal le ciuṁuis na haḃann	1	Twas my custom to stroll with the river in view
Ar báinseaċ úr ’s an drúċt go trom,	2	Through the fresh meadows covered with dew,
In aice na gcoillte i gcoim an tsléiḃe,	3	By the edge of the woods on the wild mountain-side
Gan ṁairg gan ṁoill ar ẛoillse an lae.	4	At the dawn of the day I’d cheerfully stride.
Do ġealaḋ mo ċroiḋe nuair ċínn Loċ Gréine,	5	My heart would brighten Loch Graney to spy,
An talaṁ, an tír, is íoġar na spéire,	6	And the country around it, to the edge of the sky.
Taitneaṁaċt aoiḃinn suiḋeaṁ na sléiḃte	7	The serried mountains were a delight to the beholder
Ag bagairt a gcinn tar druim a ċéile.	8	Thrusting their heads over each other’s shoulder.
Ġealfaḋ an croiḋe ḃeaḋ críon le cianta--	9	’Twould lighten the heart wizened with years--
Caiṫte gan ḃríġ nó líonta ’e ṗianta--	10	Triflingly spent or drenched with tears--
I séiṫleaċ searḃ gan sealḃ gan saiḃreas	11	Of the bitter outcast without wealth or goods
D’ḟéaċfaḋ tamall tar barra na gcoillte	12	To catch a glimpse o’er the top of the woods
Ar laċain ’n-a scuainte ar ċuan gan ċeó,	13	Of the ducks paddling by in the pellucid bay,
An eala ar a ḃfuaid ’s í ag gluaiseaċt leó,	14	Escorting the swan on her stately way,
Na héisc le meiḋir ag éirġe in áirde	15	Of the fish in joyous arching flight
Péirse im raḋarc go taiḋḃreac tárrḃreac,	16	And of the perch, a speckled spritely sight,
Daṫ an loċa agus gorm na dtonn	17	Of the blue surging swell on the tinted lake
Ag teaċt go tolgaċ torannaċ trom	18	Crashing ashore with a thunderous quake,
Ḃíoḋ éanlaiṫ i gcrainn go meiḋraċ móḋṁar,	19	Of the birds in the trees merrily singing,
Léimneaċ eilte i gcoillte im ċóṁgar,	20	While the deer through the woods are nimbly springing,
Géimneaċ aḋarc is raḋarc ar ẛlóiġte,	21	To see the huntsmen with bugles blaring,
Tréanriṫ gaḋar is Reynard rómpa.	22	As after Reynard the hounds are tearing
Ar maidin indé ḃí an spéir gan ċeó,	23	Yesterday morning, no clouds in the sky,
Ḃí Cancer, ón ngréin, ’n-a caorṫaiḃ teó	24	Presaged another hot day in July;
Is í gaḃṫa ċum saoṫair tar éis na hoiḋċe	25	Up came the sun after a rest for the night,
Is obair an lae sin réimpi sínte.	26	To her day’s work, making all nature bright.
Ḃí duilleaḃar craoḃ ar ġéaga im ṫimċeall,	27	With treeleaves rustling overhead
Fiorṫann is féar ’n-a slaoda taoiḃ liom,	28	And grass and ferns before me spread,
Glasraḋ fáis is bláṫ is luiḃna	29	The expanse of flowers would cheer the soul
Scaipfeaḋ le fán dá ċráiḋteaċt smaointe.	30	And lighten thoughts however dole.
Do ḃí me corṫa is an codlaḋ dom ṫraoċaḋ,	31	Totally fagged and dying to sleep,
Do ẛíneas ṫorm ar coṫrom sa ḃféar ġlas	32	I lay down where the grass was deep
In aice na gcrann i dteannta trínse,	33	Beside a rill, with trees about
Taca lem ċeann ’s mo hannlaí sínte.	34	A support for my head and my feet stretched out.
Ar ċeangal mo ẛúl go dlúṫ le ċéile,	35	On shutting my eyes to go to sleep,
Greamuiġṫe dúnta i ndúḃġlas néallta,	36	Locking them tight in slumber deep,
Is m’aġaiḋ agam foiliġṫe ar ċuiliḃ go sásta	37	My face protected from the flies,
I dtaiḋḃreaṁ d’ḟuiling me an cuiliṫe cráiḋte	38	A dream caused me to agonize
Do ċorruiġ do lom do ṗoll go hae me	39	To shake, to chafe my psyche deep
Im ċodlaḋ go trom gan ṁeaḃair gan éirim.	40	In my senseless, helpless sleep.
Ba ġairid mo ẛuan ’nuair ċuala, ẛaoil me,	41	Short was my sleep when I heard, thought I,
An talaṁ magcuairt ar luascaḋ im ṫimċeall	42	A violent quaking of the ground nearby
Anfaḋ a dtuaiḋ is fuadaċ fíoċṁar	43	A storm from the north violently brewing
Is calaiḋ an ċuain ag tuargain teinte;	44	And fire from the harbour luridly spewing;
Siollaḋ dem ẛúil dar ẛaṁluiġeas uaim	45	In my mind’s eye, a quick survey
Do ċonnarcas ċuġam le ciuṁuis an ċuain	46	Revealed towards me by the bay
An ṁásaċ ḃolgaċ ṫolgaċ ṫaiḋḃseaċ	47	A violent, bulging, big-assed crone
Ċnáṁaċ ċolgaċ ġoirgeaċ ġaiġdeaċ;	48	Her bulk hinting at testosterone;
A haeirde ceart, má ṁeas me díreaċ,	49	Her stature, if I reckoned right,
Sé nó seaċt do ẛlata is fuiḋleaċ,	50	Was six or seven yards in height
Péirse beaċt dá brat ag sraoilleaḋ	51	She dragged her cloak for yards behind her
Léi san tslab le drab is ríoball.	52	Through the mud and mire and squalor.
Ba ṁuar ba ṁéaḋar ba fiaḋain le féaċaint	53	’Twas mighty, majestic, wild and horrid
Suas ’n-a héadan créaċtaċ créimeaċ,	54	To gaze upon her blemished forehead;
Ba anfaḋ ceanntair, scannraḋ saoġalta,	55	The rictus of her gummy grin
A draid ’s a drandal mantaċ méirscreaċ.	56	Would make you jump out of your skin.
A rí gaċ máḋ! ba láidir líoṁṫa	57	God almighty! In her huge claw
A bíoma láiṁe is lánstaf innti,	58	Was the biggest staff you ever saw
Coṁarṫa práis ’n-a ḃarr ar spíce	59	A brass plaque at its spike defined
Is coṁaċta báille in áirde air scríoḃṫa.	60	The bailiff’s powers to her assigned.
Aduḃairt go dorrḋaċ d’ḟoclaiḃ dána:--	61	In a gruff voice these words she spoke:
Múscail! corruiġ! a ċodlataiġ ġránna;	62	Up! Shake a leg! ya sleepy yoke;
Is duḃaċ do ẛliġe ḃeiṫ sínte id ẛliasta	63	Shame on you, to be stretched out here
Is cúirt ’n-a suiḋe is na mílte ag triall ann;	64	With court convened and crowds drawing near.
Ní cúirt gan aċt gan reaċt gan riaġail	65	It’s not a court without rule or code.
Ná cúirt na gcreaċ mar ċleaċt tu riaṁ	66	Nor a marauding court in your usual mode
An ċúirt seo ġluais ó ẛluaiġte séiṁe--	67	This court is built on a civilized base--
Cúirt na dtruaġ na mbuaḋ is na mbéiṫe.	68	The court of the weak with a female face.
Is muar le maoiḋeaṁ ar ẛíolraċ Éiḃir	69	It’s indeed a great boast for Ireland’s seed
Uaisle síḋe mar ẛuiḋdar d’aonġuṫ	70	That to sit in court the fairy lords agreed
Ḋá lá is oiḋċe ar ḃinn an tsléiḃe	71	For two days and a night holding forth
I bpálás ḃuiḋnṁar ḃruiġean Ṁaiġe Gréine.	72	On top of the mount, in Moy Graney fort.
Is daingean do ġoill sé ar ẛoillse an ríoġ	73	Intense is the grief of the spectral lord,
’S ar ṁaiṫiḃ a ṫeaġlaiġ ṫaiḋḃsiġ síḋe,	74	Of his spritely household’s noble horde
’S ar uiṁir na buiḋne ḃí ’n-a ndáil	75	And all of the others assembled there
Mar d’imṫiġ gaċ díṫ ar ċríoċaiḃ Fáil--	76	At the scale of Ireland’s disrepair--
Gan sealḃ gan saoirse ag síolraċ seanda,	77	The ancient race without wealth or liberty
Ceannas a ndliġe ná cíos ná ceannṗoirt,	78	No tributes, leaders nor legal autonomy
Scriosaḋ an tír is ní’l ’n-a ndiaiḋ	79	The rape of the land with naught in its train,
In inad na luíḃeanna aċt flíġeaċ is fiaḋail;	80	In place of the crops, a weed-rank terrain;
An uaisle b’ḟearr ċum fáin mar leaġdar	81	The nobles languish in a foreign land
Is uaċtar láiṁe ag fáslaiġ ẛaiḃre,	82	While the jumped-up rich get the upper hand,
Ag feallaḋ le fonn is foġail gan féaċaint	83	In betrayal ardent, in plunder greedy
D’ḟeannaḋ na loḃar ’s an lom dá léirscrios.	84	Flaying the sick, despoiling the needy.
Is doċraċ dúḃaċ mar ḋíuġa gaċ daoirse	85	It is blackly baneful and sticks in the craw
Doilḃe dúr i ndúḃċeilt dliġṫe	86	That, in darkest despair over the absence of law,
An fann gan feiḋm ná faġaiḋ ó éinne	87	There’s nothing from no one for the purposeless weak
Aċt clampar doiṁin is luiġe ċum léirscrios,	88	But a depredacious future that is hopelessly bleak,
Fallsaċt fear dliġe is faċtnaiḋe árdnirt,	89	The knavery of lawyers, tyranny on high
Cam is calġais failliġe is fáḃar,	90	Injustice, fraud and neglect apply
Scamal an dliġe agus fíorḋaṫ fannċirt,	91	The law is clouded, the scales awry,
Dallaḋ le bríb, le fee ’s le fallsaċt.	92	With all the pull that bribes can buy.
Farra gaċ fíor, is fuiḋeall níor fágaḋ,	93	Along with the rest—and all was debated--
Dearḃaḋ díble ar ḃíobla an lá san	94	An indictment was entered and that day dated,
Cúis dar ndóiġ ná geoḃairse saor tríd,--	95	A charge that you cannot easily refute:
Cnú na hóige ḋá feóiḋ le faolrus	96	The wizening celibacy among your youth,
Is easnaṁ daoine suiḋte ar Éire--	97	The consequent lack of people in Ireland
Do ṁeaṫ let ċuiṁne an síolraċ daonna;	98	And the decline in population on this island;
Is folaṁ ’s is tráiġte fágaḋ tíorṫa,	99	The land left empty and in decline
An cogaḋ is an bás gan spás dá ndíogaḋ,	100	Wrecked by war, by death and rapine
Uaḃar na riġṫe ’s ar imṫiġ tar sáile	101	The kings with gumption who have gone overseas
Nuair ná deineann siḃ tuilleaḋ ’n-a n-áit díoḃ.	102	Have not been replaced by new inductees.
Is nár d’ḃur n-iomad gan siorruiġ gan síolraċ	103	Your race without young ones is sad to see
Is mná ’n-a muirear ar muir ’s ar tíorṫaiḃ,	104	With women burdening the land and the sea,
Connsaiġ ċorporḋa is borracaiġ óga,	105	Once buxom maids and lasses fresh
Is bonnsaiġ ḃroṫallaċ fola agus feola,	106	With boiling blood and sultry flesh
Lóistiġ liosta agus leigiṫiġ ẛásta	107	Are now lethargic, relicts debased
Is mórḋaiġ ẛioscaiṫe d’imṫiġ i ḃásta;	108	Once trim girls are gone in the waist;
Is truaġ gan toirrċeas tollairí ’en tsórt so,	109	’Tis a pity that these are without fruit of the womb
Is truaġ gan tormaċ brollaiġ is bóta iad,	110	Without swelling breasts and bellies in bloom.
Is minic iad ullaṁ an focal dá ḃfaġdís	111	They just look for the word, please don’t wait
Ag tuitim dá mogaill is molaimse a ḃfoiḋnne.	112	Until they are past their sell-by date.
Sé cinneaḋ le saoiṫe i gcríċ na coṁairle	113	The solons decided after deliberation long
In inad na daoirse d’innsin dóiḃ sin:--	114	Not to try the case before the fairy throng:
Duine den ḃuiḋn seo, líon a gcoṁaċta,	115	But to appoint a plenipotent magistrate
Ar ṫitim don dísle, suiḋeaṁ i ḃFódla.	116	Who could, with the people, mediate.
Tairgeann Aoiḃeal croí gan ċlaonḃeart,	117	There was an offer from Aoibheal, with a heart so clean
Cara na Muiṁneaċ, síḋḃean Léiṫċraig,	118	Munstermen’s friend and Craglea’s queen
Scaraḋ le saoiṫiḃ síḋe na sluaġ so	119	To the assembled council to bid farewell
Scaṫaṁ do scaoileaḋ daoirse i dTuaḋṁain.	120	And in the land of Thomond to bide a spell.
Ġeall an ṁíonla ċaointais ċóir seo	121	This gentle upright lady swore
Fallsaċt dliġe do ċlaoiḋe go cóṁaċtaċ,	122	To rip out bad laws by their core
Seasaṁ i dteannta fann is fánlag	123	To stand steadfast beside the poor and weak
Is caiṫfiḋ an teann ḃeiṫ ceannsa tláṫ liḃ,	124	So the mighty will have to cherish the meek.
Caiṫfiḋ an neart gan ċeart so stríocaḋ	125	The powerful desist from inflicting wrongs
Is caiṫfiḋ an ceart ’n-a ċeart ḃeiṫ suiḋte;	126	And justice enthroned where it belongs:
Geallaimse anois náċ clis ná coṁaċta,	127	I promise now that no power nor lure,
Cairdeas Miss ná Pimp ’n-a coṁḋalta	128	Nor the blandishments of pimp or whore
»iuḃalfas tríd an dliġe seo ġnáiṫ	129	Will undermine the dispensation
’S a gcúirt ’n-a suiḋe ag an síolraċ neaṁḋa;	130	Of this tribunal for its duration;
Tá an ċúirt seo seasṁaċ feasta ’san ḃFiacail,	131	The village of Feakle is where the court is sitting
Siuḃailse, is freagair í, caiṫfe tú triall ann,	132	Go and attend it—you’ve got to get cracking
Siuḃail gan tafann go tapa ar do ṗriacail,	133	Go quietly or at your peril dire
Siuḃail! nó stracfad san laṫaiġ im ḋiaiḋ ṫú!”	134	I’ll drag you there through the muck and mire.
Do ḃuail sí crúca im ċúl ’san ċába	135	With her crook she grabbed the hood of my cape
Is ġluais ċum siuḃail go lúbaċ láidir,	136	And off she dragged me with no escape
Sciob léi síos me trí sna gleannta,	137	Down through the valleys I was propelled
Cnoc Ṁánṁaí is go binn an teampaill.	138	To Moinmoy Hill church where the court was held.

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Cuid a Dó: An Ainnir Laḃraíonn bean óg le maiṫe na cúirte i dtaoḃ a cuid trioblóide: nach ḃfuil fir óga na tíre ag pósaḋ agus, mar sin, go ḃfuil sí gan ċéile.

Part Two: The Young Woman A young woman there tells the court of her troubles: that she is without a mate because of the refusal of the young men of the country to marry.

Is deiṁin go ḃfeaca me ar lasaḋ le tóirsiḃ	139	For sure, I saw there ablaze with light
An teaġlaċ taitneaṁaċ maiseaṁaċ mórtaċ	140	What seemed like a stately mansion bright
Soillseaċ seasṁaċ lannṁail lómraċ	141	Sparkling, spacious, tapestried,
Taiḋḃseaċ taṫacaċ daingean deaġḋóirseaċ,	142	Spectral, sturdy, brilliant indeed
Ċonnairc me an tsíḋḃean ṁíonla ḃéasaċ	143	I spied Aoibheall, the fairy wench
Ċumuis ’n-a suiḋe ar ḃínse an tsaorċirt	144	Seated on the judge’s bench
Ċonnairc me gárda láidir luaimneaċ	145	I saw a strong and nimble guard
Iomadaċ árrṫaċ tárraingṫe suas léi,	146	Numerously gathered round their ward;
Ċonnairc me láiṫreaċ lánteaċ líonta	147	I saw a household that was jammed
Ó ṁullaċ go lár de ṁná is de ḋaoine,	148	With men and women inside it crammed.
Ċonnairc me spéirḃean ṁaorhda ṁallruisc	149	Then came forward a majestic cailín
Ṁilisḃog ḃéaltais ṁéarlag ṁealltaċ	150	She was soft and comely, of gentle mien
Ṫaiṫneaṁaċ sásta ṫáclaċ ḟionn	151	With tumbling tresses framing her face
’N-a seasaṁ in áirde ar ċlár na mionn.	152	As on the stand she took her place.
Ḃí a gruaig léi scaoilte síos go slaodaċ	153	Her hair was loose and flowing free
Is buaireaṁ suiḋte fíor ’n-a féaċaint,	154	But her face was the picture of misery
Fuinneaṁ ’n-a raḋarc is faġairt ’n-a súile	155	Her eyes were fierce and filled with hate
Is fiuċaḋ le draġan uilc aiġnis fúṫa;	156	And she worked herself to such a state
A caínt dá cosc le loscaḋ cléiḃe;	157	That she moaned and heaved and sobbed and sighed
Gan gíog ’n-a tost aċt toċt dá traoċaḋ,	158	But couldn’t speak though hard she tried.
Do b’ḟuiris a rá nur bás baḋ roġa léi	159	You could see from the flood of tears she shed
Is tuile gan tlás ag tál go trom léi,--	160	That she’d much prefer if she were dead
’N-a seasaṁ ar lár an ċláir ’n-a saiġead	161	Than being on the floor facing the stands
’S í ag greadaḋ na láṁ is ag fáscaḋ a laġar.	162	Kneading her fists and wringing her hands.
An uair do ġoil sí folcaí fíoċṁar	163	After her protracted jags of crying
Is d’ḟuascail osnaí goṫaí caínte	164	She cleared her throat, with much sighing
D’imṫiġ an smúit is d’iompaiġ snóḋ uirṫi	165	The gloom lifted from her tear-stained cheek,
Ṫiormuiġ sí a gnúis is duḃairt mar ’neósad:--	166	She dried her eyes and started to speak:--
“Míle fáilte is gairdeas cléiḃ roṁat,	167	A thousand welcomes, we guarantee
A Aoiḃeall, a ḟáiḋḃean ársa on Léiṫċraig,	168	O Aoibheall, venerable queen of Craiglea,
A ẛoillse an lae is a rae gan ċoimse,	169	Light of the day, Ray of the sun
A ẛaiḃreas ẛaoġalta i ngéiḃinn daoirse	170	Worldly wealth for the hard-put-upon
A ċeannusaċ ḃuaḋaċ ó ẛluaiġte an aoiḃnis,	171	Conquering commander of the hosts of the blessed
Ba easnaṁ cruaiḋ ṫu i dTuaḋṁain is i dTír Luirc;	172	In Thomond and Tír Lorc you were sorely missed;
’S é túis mo ċáis is fáṫ mo ċaointe	173	The crux of my case, the cause of my woe
Cúis do ċráiḋ me is d’ḟág me claoiḋte	174	The ache that has plagued me and laid me low
Ḃain dem ṫreóir me is ẛeóil gan ċiall me,	175	What knocked me sideways and struck me dumb
Is ċaiṫ mar ċeó me dóite i bpianta,--	176	Caused a searing pain that left me numb,--
Na sluaiġte imṫiġeann gan ċríċ gan ċaoṁnaḋ	177	The finest of maidens wandering around
Ar ḟuaid an tsaoiġil seó d’ḟíorscoiṫ béiṫe	178	Without hope of a husband, a shilling or pound,
’N-a gcailleaċa duḃa gan cuṁdaċ céile	179	Despondent young things without help of a mate
Caiṫte gan clú gan cionnta claonḃeart.	180	Innocently barred from the matrimonial state.
Is aiṫnid dam féin san méid seó ẛiuḃlas	181	I know these maidens whereof I speak
Bean agus céad nár ṁéin leó a ḋiúltaḋ	182	One hundred and one for whom prospects are bleak
Is mise in a measc mo ċreaċ mar táimse	183	I list myself among these wrecks:
D’imṫiġ im spaid gan fear gan ṗáiste.	184	I got my gender but I get no sex
Mo ḋoċar mo ḋóġaḋ mo ḃrón mar ḃíom	185	At my time of life, ’tis depressing and cold
Gan soċar gan sóġ gan seóid gan síṫ,	186	Doing without luxuries, jewels and gold,
Go doilḃir duaiḃseaċ duaḋṁar díṫeaċ	187	Gloomy and cheerless is my plight
Gan codlaḋ gan suan gan suairceas oiḋċe,	188	Unable to sleep through the pleasureless night,
Aċt maslaiṫe i mbuairt gan suaiṁneas sínte	189	But tossed with worry lying there
Ar leabain leaṁḟuar dár suaṫaḋ ag smaointe.	190	On a chilly bed, alone not a pair.
A ċáiḋ na Carraige breaṫain go bíoḋgaċ	191	O Lady of Craiglea, you must assess
Mná na Banba in anacra suiḋte,	192	The extent of Irish women’s distress,
Ar nós má leanaid na fearaiḃ dá ḃfuadar	193	How, if the men continue with their ways,
Óċ, mo lagar! aċt caiṫfamna a ḃfuadaċ.	194	Alas, women will have to make the plays
’S é am nur ṁéin leó céile ṗósaḋ	195	By the time the men are disposed to wed
An t-am nur ḋéirc le héinne góḃáil leó!	196	They’re no longer worth our while to bed
An t-am nár ḃ’fiú ḃeiṫ fúṫa sínte--	197	And it’ll be no fun to lie below
Na seandaiġ ṫonnda ẛúiġte ċlaoiḋte.	198	Those old men who are so weak and slow.
Dá dtuiteaḋ amaċ le teas na hóige	199	Even if, with a young man’s fire,
Duine fén seaċt ar ṫeaċt féasóige	200	One in seven of the beardless were to desire
Ceangal le mnaoi, ní míntais ṫoġfiḋ--	201	To mate with a lass of his own age
Ṫaitneaṁaċ ẛuiḋte ’e ẛíol ná d’ḟoġluim,	202	He wouldn’t choose the noble or sage
Clóḋeas ċaoin nó míonla ṁánla	203	With an hour-glass figure and a knockout face
A mb’eól di suiḋe ná tiġeaċt do láṫair,	204	One who can carry herself with grace
Aċt doineanntaċ oḋar nó donn doilġeasaċ	205	But an icy, cheerless, catty bitch
Do ċruinniġ le doġraing caḃair náċ cuiḃe ḋi!	206	Who used all her guile to make herself rich.
’S é ċrá mo ċroiḋe is do scaoil gan ċéill me	207	It’s the scourge of my heart and a pain in my head
’S d’ḟág mo smaointe is m’intinn traoċta	208	And fills my thoughts with a sense of dread
Tráiġte tinn mar taoim, go tréiṫlag,	209	It’s what has made me sad and sighing
Cráiġte claoiḋte ag caoiḋ is ag géarġol,--	210	Totally wasted with all this crying,--
Nuair ċím preabaire calma croiḋṁail	211	When I see a lad who’s brave and cool
Fuadraċ fearṁail barrṁail bríoṁar	212	Who is virile, vigorous and strong as a mule
Stuamḋa feasaċ seasṁaċ saoiṫṁail	213	Who is steadfast, skillful, bright as a pin
Gruaiḋḋeas greannaṁar geanṁail gnaoiḋṁail,	214	Fresh-faced, funny, with a ready grin
Nó buaċaill bastallaċ beaċanta bróigḋeas	215	Or a boy who is frisky, frolicky, fun
Cruaiḋċeart ceanusaċ ceapaiṫe córaċ	216	With a well-built body, second to none
Buaiḋte ceannuiġṫe ceangailte pósta	217	Beaten, bought, bound unawares
Ag fuaid ag cailliġ ag aimid nó ag óinṁid,	218	By a hussy who’s extremely light upstairs
Nó ag suairle salaċ de ċaile gan tionnscal,	219	Or a slovenly slattern, a workless wench
Stuaiceaċ stailiceaċ aiṫiseaċ stanncaċ	220	Who’d make you gag with her noisome stench
Suaiteaċ sodalaċ foclaċ fáiḋṁail	221	A prating, prattling, babbling bag
Cuardaċ codlataċ goirgeaċ gráinṁail.	222	An indolent, irritable, horrible hag.
Mo ċreaċ is mo lot! Tá molt míḃéasaċ,	223	My God, I hear that an ill-mannered mare
Caile na gcos is folt gan réiḋteaċ,	224	With unshod feet and uncombed hair
Dá ceangal anoċt ’s é loisc go léir me,	225	Is to be hitched tonight which I find really grating;
Is ca ḃfuil mo loċt náċ dtoġfaḋe réimpi?	226	What’s wrong with me that I’m left here waiting?
Créad an t-aḋḃar ná taḃarfaiḋe gráḋ ḋam	227	What is the reason that no one loves me
Is mé ċoṁ leaḃair, ċoṁ moḋṁail ċoṁ breaġ so?	228	And I so lissome, so svelt and so lovely?
Is deas mo ḃéal, mo ḋéid ’s mo ġáire,	229	My lips so red are made to be kissed
Is geal mo ġné, is tá m’éadan tláṫ tais,	230	My face so bright it cannot be missed
Is glas mo ẛúil,tá m’úrla scáinneaċ	231	My eyes are green, my locks are flowing
Baċallaċ búclaċ cúplaċ fáinneaċ,	232	Curly and plaited and healthily glowing
Mo leaca is mo ġúis gan smúit gan smáċall	233	My forehead and cheeks are without zits or boils
Tarraingṫe cumṫa lonnraċ scáṫṁar	234	A porcelain complexion that nothing spoils.
Mo ṗíop, mo ḃráġaid, mo láṁa, mo ṁéara,	235	My neck, my breast, my hand, my finger
Ag síorḃreiṫ barr na háilne ó ċéile.	236	Each would make a young lad linger.
Féaċ mo ċom! naċ leaḃair mo ċnáṁa,	237	Look at my waist, my fine bone frame
Ní’l me lom ná crom ná stágaċ,	238	I’m not crooked or hunched or lame
Seo toll is cosa is colann naċ nár liom,	239	A butt, a foot, a figure to impress
’S an toġa go socair fé ċover ná tráċtaim.	240	I’ll not go into what’s beneath my dress.
Ní suairtle caile ná sreangaire mná me	241	I’m not a hussy, nor yet a drip
Aċt stuaire cailce tá taitneaṁaċ breaġ deas,	242	But a delicate beauty with lots of zip,
Ní sraoill ná slaid ná luid gan fáscaḋ	243	Not a slovenly, slatternly pig
Ná smíste duirc gan sult gan sásaṁ,	244	Nor a joyless boorish prig.
Lóisteaċ loḃṫa ná toice gan éifeaċt,	245	Not a lazy laggard with no clout
Aċt óigḃean scoṫṫa ċoṁ toġṫa ’s is féidir.	246	But a choice young woman well turned out
Dá mbeinnse silte mar tuilleaḋ dem ċoṁursain,	247	If I were as worthless as some of my neighbours
Leaḋbaċ liosta gan tuisgin gan eólus,	248	A tiresome tramp who never labours
Gan raḋarc, gan ġliocus in imirt mo ċóraċ,	249	In the ways of the world without foresight or flair
Mo ṫreiġid! cár ṁisde me riṫ in éadóċus?	250	What would it matter if I fell into despair?
Ní ḟeacaṫas fós me i gcoṁgar daoine,	251	But it has never been on people’s tongue
Ag faire ná ag tórraṁ óg ná críona,	252	That, at wake or funeral for old or young,
Ar ṁaċaire an ḃáire an ráis ná na rinnce,	253	In the hall for the dances or at the race track
I ḃfarraḋ na dtáinte ar bánta líonta,	254	On the hurling pitch among the pack
Aċt gaḃṫa go sáṁ gan ċáim ar doṁan	255	I wasn’t dressed from head to toe
I gculaiṫe sásta ó ḃarr go bonn.	256	In a tasty costume fit for a show.
Beiḋ a ċeart im ċúl de ṗúdar fillte,	257	My hair is powdered to a T
Starċ is stiúir i gcúl mo ċoife,	258	My starched cap riding jauntily
Húda geal gan ceal ribíní	259	My bright-hued hood with ribbons galore
Gúna breac ’s a ċeart ruffaí leis;	260	A polka dress with a ruffled pinafore
Is annaṁ go bráċ gan fásáil aeraċ	261	And I’m seldom without it, except in bed,
Ṫaitneaṁaċ ḃreáġ lem ċeárdán craorag,	262	My cardinal cloak of deepest red.
Is aniomda luíḃna craoiḃa is éanlaiṫ	263	My striped cambric apron is fit for a queen
Ar m’ aprún síogaċ ríoġḋaċ cambric;	264	Embroidered with a plant and animal scene
Sála cumṫa cuṁanga córaċ	265	Stiletto heels attached with screws
Árda sleaṁaine ar screw fém ḃróga,	266	Give a lift to my fashionable shoes
Búclaí is fáinní is láiṁne síoda,	267	Gloves of silk and buckles and rings
Fonnsaí práislí is lásaí daoira.	268	These are a few of my favourite things.
Seaċain, ná saoil nur sceinnteaċ scáṫṁar,	269	But beware, don’t think I’m loose a screw
Aimid gan ġaois nó naoindaċ náireaċ	270	A witless fool or quaking ingenue
Eaglaċ uaigneaċ uallaċ ḟiaḋain me,	271	Who’s timorous, lonesome, whimpering, weak
Gealtaċ gan ġuais gan stuaim gan téagar;	272	A simpering, cowering, beaten-down freak.
I ḃfalaċ ní raġainnse ó raḋarc na gcéadta,	273	I will not go and hide from the crowd,
Is ceannusaċ taiḋḃseaċ m’aġaiḋ agus m’éadan,	274	For my face is imperious, noble and proud
Is dearḃṫa ḃím dom síorṫesbeánaḋ	275	And I can assure you I’m always displayed
Ar ṁaċaire ṁín gaċ fíoriomána,	276	On the level pitch where games are played
Ag rinnce, ag báire, rás is radaireaċt,	277	At dances, races and masquerades
Teinte cnáṁ is ráfla is ragairne,	278	Round bonfires, at raffles and parades
Ag aonaċ margaḋ is Aifreann Doṁnaiġ,	279	At Sunday Mass and in market squares
Ag éileaṁ breaṫnuiġṫe, ag aṁarc gaċ toġa fir.	280	Sashaying before males, inviting their stares.
Ċaiṫeas mo ċiall le fiaḋaċ gan éifeaċt,	281	But I’m at my wits end in the mating mart
¦alladar riaṁ me, d’iaḋdar m’ae ionnam.	282	I’ve nothing to show for it but a broken heart.
Tar éis mo ċumainn, mo ṫurraing, mo ġráḋ dóiḃ,	283	After all that effort, after all my flirtation
Tar éis ar ḟulaing me d’iomada cráḋnuis,	284	After all I’ve suffered in aggravation
Tar éis ar ċailleas le caiṫeaṁ na scálaí,	285	After all the times my fortune was read
Béiṫe balḃa is cailleaċa cártaí.	286	By toothless prognosticators looking ahead
Ní’l cleas dá mb’ ḟéidir léaġaṁ ná tráċt air	287	There’s not a stroke that can still amaze,
Le teaċt na rae nó tar éis ḃeiṫ lán di,	288	From the waxing moon to its waning phase
Um Inid ná um Ṡaṁain ná ar siuḃal na bliaḋna	289	From Shrove Tuesday to All Saints Night,
Ná tuigim gur leaṁas ḃeiṫ ag súil le ciall as.	290	By making sense of my dispiriting plight.
Níor ḃ’áil liom codlaḋ go socair éanuair díoḃ	291	I could never sleep peacefully in my bed
Gan lán mo stoca de ṫorṫaiḃ fém ċluasa,	292	Without a sockful of fruit under my head;
Is deiṁin nár ḃ’obair liom troscaḋ le cráiḃṫeaċt,	293	’Twas surely no bother to devoutly fast,
Is greim nó blogam ní ẛlogainn trí tráṫa,	294	Three canonical hours between each repast;
In aġaiḋ an tsroṫa do ṫomainn mo léine,	295	Against the current I’d wash my clothes
Ag súil trím ċodlaḋ le cogar óm ċéile,	296	In the hopes that a bachelor would propose.
Is minic do ċuaiḋ me ag scuabaḋ an sta/ca,	297	Often I would go and sweep out the byre
Ingne is gruaig fe/n luaiṫġríos d’ḟágainn,	298	And my nails and hair I would throw in the fire;
Ċuirinn an tsúist faoi ċúl na ġaiḃle,	299	The flail I’d hide in the gable’s shade
Ċuirinn an raṁan go ciúin fe/n aḋairt ċuġam,	300	By the head of my bed I’d place the spade
Ċuirinn an ċoigi/ol i gcillín na háiṫe,	301	I would put my distaff in the lime kiln
Ċuirinn mo ċeirtlín i dteine aoil Ṁic Ráġnaill,	302	I’d secrete my yarn-ball in Reynolds’ mill
Ċuirinn an ros ar ċorp na sráide	303	I’d scatter seed on the crown of the street
Ċuirinn san tsop ċuġam tor gabáiste.	304	I’d stick a cabbage beneath the sheet.
Ní’l cleas aca siúd dá nduḃras láiṫreaċ	305	From my recital it’s clear I don’t miss a trick
Ná hagrainn congnaḋ an deaṁain ’s a ḃráṫar,	306	To see if I could get help from Old Nick
’S é fáṫ mo scéil go léir ’s a ḃrí ḋuit	307	But the end of my story, the result of my tale
Mar táim gan ċéile tar éis mo ḋíċill,	308	In spite of my efforts I’ve still got no male.
Fáṫ mo ẛeanċus’ ḟada, mo ṗianċreaċ,	309	And what’s really painful and makes me gasp
Táim in aċrann ḋaingean na mbliaḋnta,	310	Is how firmly I’m in the calendar’s grasp;
Ag tarraing go tréan ar laeṫiḃ liaiṫe	311	With grey old age rushing towards me undaunted
Is eagal liom éag gan éinne ’om iarraiḋ.	312	I’m terrified I’ll die alone and unwanted.
A ṗéarla ó ṗarrṫas screadaim is glaeḋim ort,	313	Pearl of Paradise, please hear my prayers
Éiric m’anma ort, aitċim ṫu is éiġim ort,	314	Have mercy, I beg you, and lighten my cares
Seaċain ná scaoil me im ẛraoill gan a/ird	315	Be sure not to leave me a ne’er-to-be wife
Nó im ċailliġ gan ċríċ gan ḃríġ gan ḃláiṫ,	316	With a mateless, meaningless, loveless life
Gan ċaraid gan ċloinn gan ċoim gan ċa/irde	317	Without friends or family, a roof o’er my head
Ar ṫeallaċa draġain gan feiḋm gan fáilte.	318	Depending on strangers for my daily bread.
Dar a fuil uimpe teinte is tóirneaċ!	319	By the thunder and the lightning in the sky
Dallaḋ me suiḋte maoiḋte im óinṁid,	320	It proves me a fool, my life gone awry
Sealḃ gaċ sóġa ag róġa gaċ díuġa,	321	That, in front of my face, Ireland’s biggest bitches
’S ag ainniḃ na Fódla os coṁair mo ẛúl.	322	Are wallowing in wealth and reveling in riches
Tá sumaċ ag Saiḋḃ go saiḋḃir sóṁaċ,	323	Saive snared a sucker with silver to spare
Muirinn i meiḋir is a haġaiḋ ar a nóċar,	324	Muireann makes merry in her lover’s lair
Mór is Mairsile i macnus múċta,	325	Mór and Mairsile wench wantonly
Is mórċuid magaiḋ orṫa ag faċnaid fúm-sa;	326	And all of them make a mockery of me
Is giodamaċ sáṁ í Sláinge, is Síle	327	Slaney and Shiela sparkle and glitter
Sisile is Áine is ál ’n-a dtimċeall,	328	Cecily and Anne each have their litter
Tuilleaḋ mar táid de ṁnáiḃ na tíre	329	There are others like them throughout the land
Is mise mar táim gan tál gan tsíolraċ.	330	While milkless and childless before you I stand.
Is fada gan feiḋm is foiḋnne ḋaṁsa é,	331	I’ve been powerless but patient for far too long
Lagar ’om leaġaḋ ’s mo leiġeas im ċoṁaċta	332	I can overcome my weakness and right this wrong:
Maille le lui/ḃna díblí dreóiġte	333	Potions from dried-up herbs I’ll wring
Is arṫanna draoiḋeaċta ċlaoiḋfeas fós dam	334	Over which magic incantations I’ll sing.
Buaċaill deas nó gas galánta	335	That should snare a strapping young chap
Ḃuaiḋfeas ceart a ẛearc ’s a ġráḋ ḋam.	336	Whom, in a web of love, I will trap.
Do ċonnairc me go leór den tsórt dá ḋéanaṁ	337	’Tis many I have seen who play this game
Is ċuirfinn i gcóir na coṁgar ċéadna;	338	Watch out! I’m about to do the same
Is daingean an congnaḋ ag dúbailt daoine	339	It’s a great help for coupling, so they allege
Greamanna d’úḃla is púdar luíḃna,	340	To mix crushed apples and powdered veg
Magairlín meiḋraċ, meill na mbualtaiḃ,	341	The purple orchid is an aphrodisiac
Taiṫigín taiḋḃseaċ, toill na tuairte,	342	With mandrake’s root I will attack
Meallaḋ na minnseaċ, claiḋeaṁ na mbonnsaċ,	343	And other plants that I cannot name
An cumainnín buiḋe is an draoiḋeaċt ċum drúise.	344	I’ll use with great relish in this ballgame
Duilleaḃar dóiġte ar nós gur rún é,	345	There’s the top secret about leaves that are burned
Is tuilleaḋ ḋen tsórt náċ cóir a ṁúineaḋ.	346	And other like intrigues that cannot be learned.
Do b’iongantus mór i dTuaḋṁain le ċéile	347	You know it took all Thomond by surprise
An ḃruinhgeal so ṫuas ag buaḋċan céile;	348	When a certain old nobody caught her prize
Is d’inis sí daṁsa, ar ndóiġ, trí rún,	349	She told me how—in confidence, indeed--
Um Inid ’s í pósta ó ḃórd na Saṁna	350	That from Shrove to Samhain (when to wed he agreed)
Nár iḃ is nár ól aċt an feóiṫnaċ fionn	351	She had drunk no wine nor ate no bread
Is cuilliḃ na móna dóiġte ar lionn.	352	But lived on a diet of burnt spiders instead.
Is fada me ag foiḋnneaḋ, faġaimse fuascailt,	353	So, I’ve long been waiting; I’m changing my fate
Seaċain ar ṁoill me, saiġead ċum luais é;	354	Don’t try to stop me, when I’m out of the gate.
Muna ḃfuil leiġeas dom ṫreiġid id ċuairt-se	355	If, from your visit, a resolution doesn’t appear
Cuirfe me faġairt i ḃfeiḋm má’s cruaiḋ ḋam.	356	Then it’s on to Plan B and I’m outta here.

---

 

Cuid a Trí: An Seanḟear Preabann seanḟear anuas le freagra a ṫaḃairt ar an ógḃean. Deir sé gur ar ẛaol míṁeanmnaí na mná óga féin an milleán go ḃfuil siad i gcruaċás. Cuireann sé síos ar a ṗósaḋ féin agus faoi mar a ḃí an ḃrídeaċ torraċ ó ḟear eile i ngan ḟios dó. (Dá ainneoin sin, molann sé leanaí taḃarṫa go hard níos déanaí mar ċuid den impí aige ar Aoiḃeal deireaḋ a ċur leis an bpósaḋ.)

Part Three: The Old Man Up jumps an old man to answer the young woman. He blames the dissolute life of young women for the predicament in which they find themselves. He recounts the circumstances of his own marriage at the time of which and unknown to him, his bride was pregnant by another. (In spite of this cuckoldry, he later praises bastards highly as part of his plea to Aoibheal to end the institution of marriage.)

Preabann anuas go fuadraċ fíoċmar	357	Then fiercely jumped up a grey old dodger
Seanduine suaraċ is fuadaċ niṁe fé,	358	There was fire in the eyes of that greasy codger
A ḃaill ar luascaḋ is luas anáile air,	359	His limbs were shaking, his breathing wild
Draġan is duais ar fuaid a ċnáṁa.	360	It was clear that he was thoroughly riled.
Ba ḋreóil an raḋarc go deiṁin don ċúirt é	361	He glared at the court with a look inflamed
Ar bórd ’n-a ṫaiḋḃse im éisteaċt duḃairt sé:--	362	And, in my hearing, he then declaimed:--
Doċar is díoġḃáil is síorċráḋ cléiḃ ort	363	I wish you naught but damage and hurt
A ṫoice le místaid, a ẛíol gáḃa is déarca,	364	You miserable hussy, descended from dirt
Is dóṫ naċ iongantus laigeaċt na gréine	365	I suppose it’s no wonder the sun is weak
Is fós gaċ tiubaist dar imṫiġ ar Éire,	366	And that Ireland’s lot is unbelievably bleak
Mar ṁeaṫ gaċ ceart gan reaċt gan dliġe againn,	367	Our rights are gone, the law’s a laugh
Ár mba ḃí bleaċt gan laċt gan laoiġ aca,	368	Our cows, once fertile, without milk or calf.
Is dá dtagaḋ níos mó de ṁórscrios tíorṫa	369	It’s no great surprise about the country’s woes
Is gaċ faision dá nóḋaċt ar Ṁóir ’s ar Ṡíle.	370	With Mór and Síle sporting the latest clothes.
A ṫoice gan ċríċ naċ cuiṁin le táinte	371	You’re an absolute transcendental bitch
Olcus na síolraċ daoine ó dtángais,	372	Everyone knows you were born in a ditch
Gan focal le maoiḋeaṁ ag do ẛinsear gránna	373	Your ugly ancestors can’t boast of their blood
Aċt lopaiġ gan ḃríġ, luċt míre is mála.	374	They’re aimless louts, sprung from the mud.
Is aiṫnid dúinne an snaṁaire is aṫair duit,	375	Everyone knows your father’s a creep
Gan ċaraid gan ċlú gan ċúil gan airgead,	376	Without friends or fame, common and cheap
’N-a leibide liaṫ gan ċiall gan ṁúineaḋ,	377	A grey old yo-yo with no erudition
Gan ṁeidir gan ṁias gan ḃiaḋ gan anlann,	378	Without cup or bowl, racked with malnutrition,
Gan faice ar a ḋroim is a ċaḃail gan ċóta,	379	Not a stitch on his back, no coat on his body
Aċt gad ar a ċoim is a ḃonn gan ḃróga.	380	A súgán for a belt, his footwear shoddy.
Creidiḋ a ḋaoine, ḋá ndíoltaiḋe ar aonaċ	381	Believe me, people, if he was sold at the fair
Eisean ’s a ḃuiḋean tar éis íoc gaċ éileaṁ,	382	Of all of his debts he couldn’t take care
Dar colainn na naoiṁ baḋ díċeall muar dó	383	By the saints who are holy, ’twould make the news
Pota maiṫ diġe len’ ḟuiḋlaċ d’ḟuascailt.	384	If he then could afford a bottle of booze.
Naċ muar an t-óḃaċt ’s an gleó i measc daoine	385	It’s a cause of merriment, both loud and deep
Truahgaire ’et ẛórt gan ḃó gan ċaoiriġ,	386	That a reject like you, with no cows or sheep
Búclaí it ḃróga is clóicín síoda ort,	387	Sports buckles on your shoes, a fancy silk frock
Is ciarsúir póca ag góḃáil na gaoiṫe ort!	388	And a protecting scarf the wind to block.
Do ḋallais an saoġal go léir let ṫaiḋḃse,	389	You dazzle the whole world with your face
’S is aiṫnid dam féin tu i dtaoḃ le coife	390	But I know for a fact you’re for a bloody disgrace.
Is deacair ḋam laḃairt, do lom is léir ḋam,	391	Your mendacity’s so clear, it’s hard to address
Is fada do ḋroim gan ċaḃair ón léine;	392	Your back is a stranger to a decent dress
Is toġa droċduine do ṫuigfeaḋ ’n-a gáḃa ṫu	393	But that deficiency, no one believes
Is feaḃus do ruffa let ṁuinċilte cáimric.	394	It’s hidden with ruffs and cambric sleeves.
Tá canafas saor ċum sraod go ḃásta	395	Canvas as a waist binder is low in price
Is ca ḃfios don tsaoġal naċ stays é ’ot ḟáscaḋ?	396	And maybe it’s stays that’s the flattening device.
Feiceann an tír ort frínse is fáinne	397	The world spies your rings and fringes of gauze
Is ceileann do laíṁne grís is gága.	398	While your gloves cover up the dirt on your paws.
Aċt aiṫris ar bórd, nó inneósad féin é,--	399	But tell the court, or I myself will reveal,--
An fada nár ól tu deóir let ḃéile?	400	How long since you’ve had a drink with your meal
A ċonartaiġ ḃoiċt na gcos gan ionlaḋ,	401	You miserable slob with the dirty feet
Dóċas it ċorp le Bucks gan anlann!	402	Unseasoned Bucks aren’t much of a treat
Is fuiris dar liúm dod ċúl ḃeiṫ taiḋḃseaċ,	403	It’s plain to me why you should hang your head
Do ċonnarc lem ẛúile an ċúil ’n-a luiġeann tu;	404	I saw with my own eyes where you make your bed
Garḃ ná mín ní síntear fút ann,	405	With no sheet beneath you, either fine or rough
Barraċ ná líon dár sníoṁaḋ le túrna,	406	Spun on a wheel from even the coarsest stuff
Aċt mata ’n-a smuirt gan ċuilt gan ċlúdaḋ,	407	But a dirty mat without a quilt or a spread
Dealḃ gan luid gan ṗluid gan tsúsa,	408	Without a blanket or comforter to cover the bed.
I gcoṁar boṫáin gan áit ċum suiḋe ann	409	Your cabin is without a place for a seat
Aċt súġ sileáin is púscaḋ aníos ann,	410	Dripping soot from above; oozing mud from beneath
Fiaḋaile ag teaċt go fras gan ċoimse	411	Rank weeds flourishing in profusion galore
Is rian na gcearc air trasna scríobṫa,	412	And chicken tracks scratched across the floor
Lag ina ḋrom is na gaḃla ag lúbaḋ	413	The roofline sagging; the gables leaning
Is clagarnaċ ḋonn go trom ag túirlint.	414	The brown rain pouring down through the ceiling.
A ċumainn na ḃfáiḋ! naċ árd do laḃair sí!	415	O company of seers, how loud she does shout
Gustalaċ gálḃa gárṫa gaḃann sí	416	A blustery braggart who goes about
I ndaṫaiḃ i gcóir ’s i gclócaí síoda,	417	In colourful clothes and silken cloaks
Faire go deó aru! fóill, cár fríoṫ é?	418	It is certain the money didn’t come from her folks.
Aiṫris cá ḃfaġair an raḋarc seo ṁaoiḋeann tu,	419	From where the look of which you crow
Is aiṫris cár ṫuill tu an leaḋb gan ḃríġ seo;	420	And how did you earn the necessary dough;
Is deacair a suiḋeaṁ gur fríoṫ go cóir iad--	421	It’s hard to believe it’s from an honest stroke
Is gairid ó ḃís gan síol an orlaiġ.	422	It’s not long since you were totally broke
Aiṫris ca ḃfuair tu luaċ an húda,	423	Where did you get the price of the hoods
Is aiṫris cá ḃfuair tu luaċ do ġúna,	424	Tell us how you came by the expensive duds.
Aċt leagaimid uainn car ġluais an cóta,	425	I won’t make the cost of your coat my affair
Is aiṫris cá ḃfuair tu luaċ na mbróga.	426	But how could you afford the fancy footwear?
A Aoiḃeal ċeanusaċ ċarṫannaċ ċoṁaċtaċ,	427	O Aoibheall, peerless, kindly queen
Guiḋim ṫú, gairim ṫu, freagair is fóir me,	428	I beg you, call on you, please intervene
Is fíor gur feasaċ me farairí Fódla	429	I know that all in Ireland who reach man’s estate
Suiḋte greamuiġṫe ag sladaiḋṫe ’en tsórt so.	430	Is firmly hooked by such a reprobate
Dar láiṁ mo ċarad! is aiṫnid dam coṁursa	431	One of my friends who lives up the road
Láiṁ le baile agam, gairid do ċoṁgar,	432	Not very far from my own abode
Buaċaill soineannta sruimile sónntaċ	433	Among the nicest boys you ever spied
Ar buaileaḋ duine aca ċuige mar nóċar.	434	Was snared into taking one as his bride
Is searḃ lem ċroiḋe nuair ċím im raḋarc í--	435	It pains my heart to see her around
A gradam, a críoċ, a poimp ’s a taihdḃse;	436	Her hauteur, her pomp, her stuck-up frown
Sealḃaċ bó aici is eórna ag fás di,	437	Cattle in her possession, her barley growing
Airgead póca is ór ’dir láṁa aici.	438	Money in her pocket and gold overflowing.
Do ċonnairc me indé í ar ṫaoḃ na sráide,	439	I saw her yesterday on the side of the street
Is cumusaċ tréan an léire mná í,	440	She was a large woman, in no way petite;
Malfaire másaċ mágaċ magṁail,	441	She shook her huge hips in a taunting way
Marḃ le cámus lán de ladṁus,	442	With as much impertinence as she could display
Mar’eaċ gur claon liom éad do ṁúscailt,	443	Were it not that I am the soul of discretion
Scannal do scéiḋ ná scéalta scrúdaḋ,	444	Unwilling to comment on any transgression
Do b’ḟuiris dam innsin cruinn mar ċuala	445	I could easily tell what I’ve heard told
An ċuma n-a mbíoḋ sí sraoillte suaiḋte,	446	How she carried on as a harlot bold
Sracaiṫe ar lár is gáir ’n-a timċeall,	447	Stretched on the floor, causing a hullabaloo
Sraiṫte ar an sráid nó i stábla sínte.	448	In the street or the stable, her clothing askew.
Mairfid a tásc is tráċtfar ċoiḋċe	449	Her story will live, she’ll be the subject of lore
Ar ṁarṫana ar ċáil ’s ar ġáir a gníoṁarṫa	450	She will be spoken of for evermore
In Uiḃ Breacáin an aráin ’s an ḟíona,	451	In Ibrickane of the bread and wine
I dTír Ṁaċláin na mbánta míne,	452	In Tirmaclane of the meadows so fine
Ag ísle is ársa Ṁáinse is Ínse,	453	By Manishmore’s and Ennis’ lowly and quality
Ċill Ḃreacáin, an Ċláir is Ċuinċe,	454	In Killbracken, in Quin, and in Clareabbey
Ag connsaiġ ainṁiḋe Ṫreadraiġe an ṗónra	455	In Tradree of the beans where there are wild young fellows
Is fonnsaiġe falaċaiḋe Ċreatlaiġe an ċorda.	456	And in Cratlea where outlaws hang from the gallows
Faire, ba ċlaon í, tar éis a nduḃairt me	457	Now, look, that’s all in the past, I know
Ġlacfainn gur saor í fé n-a cionta	458	And I might be willing to let it all go
Aċt beirim don ṗláiġ í lá mar ċím í	459	But the other day I saw her on her ass
Leagaiṫe láiṁ le Gárus sínte,	460	Outside of Garus lying on the grass
Caiṫte ar an ród gan órlaċ fúiṫi	461	Spread on the ground without a stitch, so bare,
Ag gramaisc na móna ar ḃóiṫriḃ ¦uḃḋoire.	462	With a bogman from Doora in the County Clare.
M’iongantas ann os ceann mo ċéille	463	It's a wonder to me, past all comprehension
Is criṫim go fann le scannraḋ an scéil seo,--	464	Just to think of it fills me with hypertension,--
Ise ḃeiṫ seang nuair ṫeann gaċ éinne í	465	After fornicating with all, I just don’know
Is druidim le clann nuair ẛanntuiġ féin í.	466	How she didn’t conceive till she wished it so.
Is mór ’n-a grása é ag ráḋ na mbriaṫar,	467	It’s saying a lot for the power of the word
Nóimeant spás níor ġáḃa le hiarraiḋ	468	That not a minute of unnecessary delay was incurred
Ó léagaḋ ar bórd os coṁair na coinnle	469	From the reading before the candles bright
An tEgo Vos seo d’ordaiġ Íosa	470	Of the Ego Vos of the marriage rite
Gur ẛéid sí laċt go bleaċt ’n-a cíoċa	471	Her breasts were bursting with milk, I swear
Aċt naoi mí beaċt is seaċtṁain cinnte!	472	After nine months with just a week to spare!
Breaṫain gur baoġal don té tá scaoilte	473	It’s the greatest peril to the single and sane
Ceangal go héag fé ṫaoḃ den ċuing seo,	474	To be tied till death to the ball and chain,
I sealḃ gaċ saoṫ, is éad dá ẛuaṫaḋ--	475	In the grip of misfortune, jealousy rife,
In aisce, mo léan! mo léaġan ní ḃfuaireas,	476	As I learned for myself at a terrible price.
Is feasaċ ḋon taoḃ so ’en tsaol mar ḃí mé	477	Everyone round here knows how I used be,
Sealad dem réim ’s dem laeṫiḃ roiṁe seo,	478	When I was single and gloriously free,
Leiṫeadaċ láidir lán de ẛaiḋḃreas,	479	An important man, much wealth I did own
Eisteas le fáġail is fáilte im ṫeaġlaċ,	480	My door was wide open, my table did groan
Caraid i gcúirt is congnaḋ dliġe agam,	481	A friend at court and the law on my side
Ceannus is clú agus coṁar sa saoiṫe,	482	Dominion and fame, with seers as my guide.
Taṫaċ im ċaínt is suim is éifeaċt,	483	My words with wit and wisdom teemed
Talaṁ is maoin ag suiḋeaṁ mo ċéille!	484	All the land and wealth of which I dreamed
M’aigne síoċ is m’intinn sásta--	485	My mind at ease, my brain without strife--
Ċailleas le mnaoi mo ḃríġ ’s mo ẛláinte!	486	I lost it all when I married my wife!
Ba ṫaitneaṁaċ leaḃair an croḃaire mná í,	487	She was a pleasant and graceful strip of a lass
Ḃí seasaṁ is com is caḃail is cnáṁa aici,	488	Her posture and presence betokened class
Casaḋ ’n-a cúl go búclaċ trílseaċ,	489	The toss of her head showed off ringlets and curls
Lasaḋ ’n-a gnúis go lonnraċ soillseaċ,	490	And the sheen on her cheeks fairly glowed like pearls,
Cuma na hóige uirṫi is sóġ ’n-a gáire,	491	She had the vitality of youth and a smile of bliss
Is cuireaḋ ’n-a cló ċun póige is fáilte!	492	And all her demeanour invited a kiss.
Aċt ċreaṫas le fonn gan ċonn gan ċáirde	493	I shook with desire, my mind did reel
Ó ḃaiṫeas go bonn go taḃarṫa i ngráḋ ḋi.	494	I fell besottedly in love, head over heel.
Is dearḃ gan doḃta ar doṁan gur díoġaltus	495	It’s certain, no doubt, it was retribution
Danarḋa donn dom ṫaḃairt ar m’aiṁleas	496	For all my bad actions, my dissolution
D’ḟearṫainn go trom ar ḃonn mo ġníoṁarṫa	497	Which fell with a vengeance for my transgression
Ó Fhlaiṫeas le fonn do lom do líon me.	498	From heaven above with cruel repression.
Do snaḋmaḋ go suiḋte snaiḋm na cléire,	499	The clergy tied us tightly with the knot
Is ceanglaḋ sinn i gcuing le ċéile,	500	In a damnable yoke we were firmly caught,
Ġlanas gan ċinnteaċt suim gaċ éileaṁ	501	I cleared all the debts without demur or delay
Ḃaineas le baois gan ġaois an lae sin.	502	From the extravagant folly of that fateful day
Coṫrom go leór, níor ċóir me ċáineaḋ--	503	Give me due credit, I was able to treat
Stopas an gleó ḃí ag cóip na sráide,	504	All of the rabble who came in from the street
Bacaiġ go léir, ḃí an cléireaċ sásta,	505	Beggars all, the clerics were sated
An sagart róḃuiḋeaċ is b’éidir fáṫ leis!	506	The priest was delighted at how he was feted.
Lasamar tóirsí is coṁursain cruinn ann,	507	With torches lit, the neighbours around
Leagaḋ ar bórdaiḃ mórċuid bíḋ ċuġainn	508	The table with all sort of foodstuffs was crowned
Clagarnaċ ċeóil is ól gan ċoimse,	509	The music was mighty, much drink was imbibed
Is ċaiṫeadar cóisir ṁórtaċ ṁaoiḋteaċ.	510	It was a bash on a scale that can’t be described.
Mo ḋíṫ gan easbaiḋ nár taċtaḋ le biaḋ me	511	But the day I was baptised I wish I had died
An oiḋċe baisteaḋ nó as san gur iarras	512	Or some day since then before I had tried
Síneaḋ ar leabain le hainnis do liaiṫ me	513	To bed with a trollop who turned me gray
’S do scaoil le gealaiġ gan ċaraid gan ċiall mé.	514	Deprived me of friends, caused my mind to decay.
’S é tásc do ġeóḃainn ag óg ’s ag aosta	515	But then I was warned by the young and the old
Gur ḃreallán spóirt ag ól ’s ag glaeḋaċ í	516	That she was a drunkard and a constant scold
I mboṫáin ósta is bóird á bpléascaḋ,	517	With the rabble in sheebeens she was wont to mingle
Ar lár ’n-a lóiste ag pósta is aonta.	518	And lay on the floor with the married and single
Do b’ḟada dá meilt a teist ’s a tuairisc	519	It took a while before her name was destroyed
Do b’ḟada gur ċreid me a ḃeag ná a ṁuar de,	520	The stories about her I long could avoid
Do b’eaglaċ le gaċ beirt dá gcuala é	521	Everyone kept mum who knew the situation
Go raċainn im ṗeilt im ġeilt gan tuairisc.	522	Afraid I would vanish, naked, in extreme agitation.
Fós ní ġéillfinn, caoċ mar ḃí me,	523	I would not listen, too blind to see
Do ġlór gan éifeaċt éinne ṁaoiḋ é;	524	To the few who ineffectively told me;
Aċt magaḋ nó greim gan feiḋm gan ċéill	525	I believed they were only slagging the groom
Gur aiṫris a broinn dam deiṁin gaċ scéil!	526	Until the whole story was told by her womb.
Níor ċúrsaí leaṁuis ná durdam bréige é,	527	It was not a prank or idle prattle
Ná duḃaiirt bean liom go nduḃraḋ léiṫi é	528	Or a woman engaging in tittle-tattle
Aċt laḃair an ḃeart i gceart ’s in éifeaċt--	529	But the deed itself spoke loud and clearly
Do ḃronn sí mac aḃfad roiṁ ré ḋam!	530	She gave me a son who was way too early!
Mo scannraḋ scéil gan féiṫ dem ċroiḋe air--	531	God almighty, I nearly died of fright
Clann dá dtéaḋaṁ dam tar éis na hoiḋċe!	532	To find a family at the end of that night!
Cullóid anfaċ ainigiḋe scólta,--	533	There was a mighty commotion around the house
Bunóc ceangailte is bean an tí breóiḋte,	534	With a swaddled child and a retching spouse,
Posóid leagaiṫe ar smeaċaidí teo acu	535	A draught of medicine on the coals being warmed
Cuinneog ḃainne dá greadaḋ le fórsa	536	A can full of cream was being forcefully churned
Is mullaċ ar lánṁias bánḃiaḋ is siúicre	537	A dish heaped high with sugar and goody
Ag Muirinn Ní Ċáimliaiṫ báinliaiġ an ċrúca	538	For the greedy midwife, Muireann Ní Cháimlia
Ḃi coiste cruinnuiġṫe ag tuilleaḋ dem ċoṁursain	539	A group of my other neighbours were gathered
Cois na teine agus siosarnaċ ḋaṁsa.	540	Beside the fire where they quietly whispered.
Scaoilid cogar i ḃfogus dom éisteaċt:--	541	One of them said, loud enough to hear:--
Míle molaḋ le Solus na Soillse!	542	“Praise be to the stars that shine so clear,
Bíoḋ naċ baileaċ a d’aibiġ an ċré seo	543	Even though the nipper didn’t wait for the clock
Do-ċímse an t-aṫair ’n-a ẛeasaṁ ’n-a ċéadfaḋ.	544	He looks like he’s a chip cut off the old block.
A ḃfeiceann tú, a Ṡaḋḃ ’rú, luiġeaṁ a ġéaga!	545	Don’t you see now, Saive, how the kid is the image
A ḋeilḃ gan draġan a ḃaill ’s a ṁéara!	546	Of the old man’s form, his limbs and his visage!
Cumus na láṁ ba dána dóirne!	547	The cut of his hands and those bold fists
Cuma na gcnáṁ is fás na feóla.	548	And look at those legs and arms and wrists.”
Do ċeapadar cruinn gur ẛíolruiġ an dúċas	549	They pondered long on the child’s supposed lineage
Maise mo ġnaoi agus íor mo ġnúise,	550	How he looked like me, inherited my image
Feilleaḋ mo srón’ is glónraḋ m’éadain,	551	The shape of my nose and how my brow glowed
Deise mo ċló, mo snóḋ agus m’ḟéaċain,	552	The elegant form which on him I bestowed
Leagaḋ mo ẛúl is go fiú mo ġáire	553	The lay of my eyes and even my grin
’S as-san do ẛiuḃail ó ċúl go sáil é.	554	How he was my very picture from head to shin.
Aṁarc ná raḋarc ní ḃfaġainn den ċréice,--	555	Of course, not hide nor hair did I see of the pup,--
Is baileaċ gan leiġeas do ṁeillfeaḋ gaoṫ é!--	556	They said the draughts would screw him up!--
Ag cuideaċta an teaġlaiġ i ḃfeiḋil mo ċaoċta,	557	The crowd in the house kept him out of my sight
Siollaḋ dá laġad di leáfaiḋe an créatúir!	558	With their claim that the air would harm the mite.
Do laḃras garg ’s do ṫagras Íosa,	559	By this time I was mad and breathing fire
Is stollta garḃ do ḃagras gríosaċ,	560	I told them the consequences would be dire
D’ḟógras fearg le hainḃfios caínte,	561	I thundered, I stormed, I blustered, I swore
’S is dóṫ gur ċreaṫadar cailleaċa an tiġe roṁam.	562	Till the women of the house could stand it no more.
De leisce an aċrainn leagadar ċuġam é,--	563	They brought me the boy to settle me down,--
Beir go haireaċ air, seaċain ná brúiġ é,	564	“Take him gently, don’t shake him around
Is fuiris a ẛuaiṫeaḋ, luaisc go réiḋ é,	565	He’s easily hurt; he’s close to dying
Turraing do fuair sí ruaig roiṁ ré é;	566	Don’t pick him up, leave him lying
Seaċain ná faisc é, fág ’n-a luiġe é,	567	Since she had a fall that brought on his birth
Is gairid an bás ’do, is gearr do raġaiḋ sé;	568	He’s close to death, not too long for this earth
Dá maireaḋ go lá idir láṁa ’n-a ċló	569	We hope he’ll survive till the morning at least
’S an sagart ar fáġail níorḃ ḟearr a ḃeiṫ beó.	570	When we’ll have a chance to call the priest.”
Do ḃaineas an tsnaiḋm dá ċoiṁreaċ cuṁdaiġ	571	I loosened the confining bands and set him free
Is ḃreaṫain me cruinn é sínte ar ġlúin liom,	572	I looked at him carefully there on my knee
A Muaireaċ d’airiġ me taṫacaċ tonnda é,	573	My God, I saw he was full of vim and vigour
Fuair me feargaċ fearradaċ lúiṫeaċ	574	And he looked like he had a healthy figure
Láidir leaṫan mo leanḃ ’n-a ġuailniḃ,	575	The baby’s shoulders were stout, I declare,
Sála daingeana is an-ċuid gruaige air!	576	He was firm in the feet, had a fine head of hair!
Cluasa cruinniġṫe is ingne fásta,	577	Well-formed ears and nails that were long
Ċruaḋdar a uilleanna a ċroiḃ ’s a ċnáṁa,	578	His hands, his wrists and his elbows were strong
D’aibiġ a ẛúile is fiú a ṗolláirí,	579	His eyes and his nostrils were both healthily wide
’S d’airiġ me a ġlúine luṫṁar láidir.	580	I could see from his knees he’d have a powerful stride.
Coileán cumusaċ cuisleannaċ córaċ	581	In short and in closing, it’s all I can say
Folláin fuinneaṁaċ fulaingeaċ feólṁar.	582	That he was as fine a child as you’d see any day.
Screadaim go hárd le gáir na tíre	583	O Aoibheall, I beg you on behalf of my race
Is leagaim dot láṫair cás na ndaoine,	584	I place before you the people’s case
Breaṫain go caoin, is bí truaiġṁéileaċ,	585	Judge us kindly, show us mercy
Beannaiḃ a gcinn is suim a gcéille;	586	We’ve little sense but much jealousy
Aṫarruiġ an dliġe seo ċuing na cléire	587	Change this law of the clergy’s yoke
Is ainic an ḃuiḋean nár fríoṫ san ġéiḃeann.	588	And allow his freedom to the unmarried bloke.
Má laguiġ an síolraċ díonmahr daonna	589	If the population is on the wane
I dtalaṁ daṫaoiḃeann ḟíorġlais Éireann,	590	In Ireland’s green and fertile terrain,
Is fuiris an tír d’aiṫlíonaḋ ’e laoċra	591	Her race of warriors could be reborn yet
D’uireasḃa eangaiġe gan ḃríġ gan éifeaċt,--	592	Absent the inanity of the marriage net,--
Ca ḃfuil an gáḃa le gáir na bainse,	593	Why do we need those nuptial traditions
Cárta biotáille is páġa luċt seinnte,	594	Paying for liqour and for musicians
Sumaiġ ar bórd go fóiseaċ taiḋḃseaċ,	595	Idlers eating all of your food
Glugar is gleó aca is ól dá ẛaiġdaḋ,	596	Guzzling your malt till thoroughly stewed.
Ó d’aibiġ an t-aḋḃar do ḃronn Mac Dé	597	When the Mother of God first conceived
Gan sagart ar doṁan dá dtaḃairt dá ċéile;	598	No priestly blessing was received.
Is leaṫanṁar láidir lánṁear léadṁar	599	Many who are strong and altogether fine
Fairsing le faġáil an t-álṁaċ saor so.	600	Sprang from an illegitimate line
Is minic do-ċímse bríoġṁar bórrṫa	601	For love is a lustier sire than creed
Cumusaċ líonta i gcroiḋe ’s i gcóir iad;	602	And produces a healthier, heartier breed
Créim ní ḟeicim ná daille ná caoiċe	603	The deaf or dumb or lame or blind
I léim ar leiṫre dár hoileaḋ ó ṁnaoi ar biṫ;	604	Among love children you generally won’t find;
Is mó ’s is mire, ’s is teinne ’s is tréine	605	They are stronger and faster, more right in the head
A gcló ’s a gclisteaċt ná dlisteanaiġ éinne.	606	Than many begotten in a married bed.
Is fuiris a luaiḋimse d’ḟuascailt go suiḋte	607	I brought with me the proof of my stand
Is duine aca an uair seo ar fuaid an tiġe agam!	608	I have here with me one of that band!
A ḃfeiceann tu ṫall go ceannsa ciúin é!	609	Do you see him there, so quiet and polite?
Deisiġ anall i dteannta an ḃúird é.	610	Bring him here so we can see him right.
Breaṫain go cruinn é, bíoḋ gurab óg é	611	Look at him carefully, though he’s a youth
Is dearḃṫa suiḋte an píosa feola é,	612	You will see indeed that I tell the truth
Is preabaire i dtoirt i gcorp ’s i gcnáṁ é	613	He’s a comely boy in form so grand
Ca ḃfuil a loċt i gcois nó i láiṁ ḋe?	614	Can you see a flaw in his foot or hand?
Ní seirgeaċ fann ná seandaċ feósaċ,	615	He wasn’t sired by a sap with consumption
Leibide cam nó gandal geóiseaċ,	616	A worthless tramp, a gander without gumption
Meall gan ċuma ná sumaċ gan síneaḋ é	617	A formless lump who’s riddled with cancer
Aċt lannsa cumusaċ buinneaṁaċ bríoġṁar.	618	But a lively, powerful, active lancer.
Ní deacair a ṁeas naċ spreas gan ḃríġ	619	It would be such a farce to tie for life
Ḃeaḋ ceangailte ar nasc ar teasc ag mnaoi,	620	This sire of his to only one wife
Gan ċnáṁ gan ċumus gan ċuma gan ċom,	621	Shapeless, spineless, waistless, sexless
Gan ġráḋ gan ċumann gan fuinneaṁ gan fonn,	622	Friendless, mindless, loveless, listless
Do scaipfeaḋ i mbroinn d’éanṁaiġre mná	623	To use his seed for only one womb
Le cataċus draġain an groiḋre ḃreáġ	624	When he could be in many a bedroom.
Mar ċuireann sé i ḃfeiḋm gan ṁoill gan ḃréig	625	This young lad proves without a lie
Le cumus a ḃaill ’s le luiġeaṁ a ġéag	626	With his goodly arms and shapely thigh
Gur croḃaire é croṫaḋ go coṫrom gan ċáime	627	That he’s a sapling who was the upshot
Le fonn na fola is le foṫram na sláinte.	628	Of a fevered coupling when the blood was hot.
Leis-sin ná hiarrse a riaġain réilteaċ	629	So please don’t subject millions, O Queen of the Sky
Meilleaḋ meiriad le riaġail gan éifeaċt!	630	To a stupid rule with which they must comply
Scaoil ’o ċodlaḋ gan ċoċall gan ċoiṁreaċ	631	Awake to a life without a bond or chain
Síol an ḃodaiġ ’s an ṁogallḟuil ṁaoiḋteaċ,	632	The country’s people, both mighty and plain
Scaoil fá ċéile de réir nádúra	633	Allow them to be naturally combined
An síolḃaċ séad ’s an braon lábúrṫa,	634	Couples from the peasantry and the refined.
Fógair go féilteaċ tré sna tíorṫa	635	Throughout the land may a new rule unfold
D’óg is d’aosta saorṫoil síolraiḋ.	636	Of sexual freedom for young and for old.
Cuirfiḋ an dliġe seo gaois i nGaeḋlaiḃ,	637	This new law will make the Irish proud,
’S tiocfaiḋ an bríġ mar ḃí ’n-a laoċaiḃ,	638	The new race will once again be endowed
Ceapfaiḋ sé com is drom is doirne	639	With all the prowess of the heroes of old,
Ag fearaiḃ an doṁain mar Ġoll mac Móirne,	640	The likes of Goll mac Móirne the bold.
Gealfaiḋ an spéir, beiḋ éisc i líonta,	641	The sky will brighten, the fish will bite
Is talaṁ an tsléiḃe go léir fé luiḃna,	642	The mountainy land will bloom with no blight

 

Cuid a Ceaṫair: An Ainnir Arís Tá an ainnir arís as an mbínse ag magaḋ an tseanḟir faoin mbealaċ inar ṫeip air a ḃean óg a ẛásaṁ. Deir sí go mba ċóir iaċall a ċur ar ḟir óga pósaḋ, is gan eisceaċt a ḋéanaṁ do ẛagairt na tíre.

Part Four: The Young Woman Again The young woman again takes the stand mocking the old man’s inability to satisfy his young wife. She advocates forcing young men to marry with the clergy not being exempt from that edict.

Tar éis ḃeiṫ tamall don ainnir ag éisteaċt	645	After the girl had heard his harangue
Do léim ’n-a seasaṁ go tapa gan foiḋnne,	646	With great impatience, to her feet she sprang,
Do laḃair sí leis agus loise ’n-a súile	647	With fire in her eyes on him she gazed
Is raḃartaí feirge feilice fúṫa:--	648	And spoke in a voice that was trembling and crazed:--
Dar Coróin na Carraige mar ’eaċ le géilleaḋ	649	By Craglea’s Crown, if I wasn't thinking
Dot ċló dot aindeis ’s d’easnaṁ do ċéille	650	How your health is failing, your faculties sinking
Is d’am na hurraime ’on ċuideaċta ẛéiṁ seo	651	And of the respect that’s due to this court
An ceann lem ingin do sciobfainn det ċaolscrog,	652	With my nails, I’d scratch your face and throat
Do leagfainn anuas de ṫuairt fá’n mbórd ṫu	653	I’d knock you with a mighty crash to the ground
’S is fada le luaḋ gaċ cuairt dá ngeóḃainn ort	654	And it would long be talked of how often you went down
Go stróicfinn sreanga do ḃeaṫaḋ le fonn ceart,	655	Until I had cut your mortal cord
’S go seólfainn t’anam go Aċeron tonntaċ.	656	So that across Acheron you were being oared..
Ní fiú liom freagra freastail do ṫaḃairt ort,	657	It’s beneath my dignity to answer you straight
A ẛnaṁaire fleascaiġ naċ aiṫis do laḃarṫa!	658	You sniveling slimeball, your speech’s inchoate
Aċt ’neósad me feasta do ṁaiṫiḃ na cúirte	659	But I want to inform the worthies of the court
An nós nur cailleaḋ an ainnir nár ḃ’ḟiú ṫu:--	660	Of the horrible life of one above your sort:--
Ḃí sí lag, gan ḃa gan ṗuntaiḃ,	661	She was vulnerable, without cattle or dough
Ḃí sí aḃfad gan teas gan clúdaḋ,	662	Always freezing without heat or a throw
Corṫa ḋá saoġal, ar strae ḋá seólaḋ	663	Tired of life, astray without direction
Ó ṗosta go pléar gan ġaol gan ċoṁgus,	664	From pillar to post, with no relative’s affection,
Gan scíṫ gan spás de lá ná d’oiḋċe,	665	Without rest or comfort by day or by night
Ag stríocaḋ an aráin ó ṁná nár ċuiḃe léi.	666	Having to beg from strangers her daily bite.
Do ġeall an fear so dreas sócaṁail di,	667	This man promised her silver and gold
Do ġeall an spreas di teas is clúdaḋ,	668	He promised her heat and shelter from cold,
Coṫrom glan is ba le crúḋ di,	669	A fair share of wealth and milk cows purebred
Is codlaḋ fada ar leabain ċlúiṁ di,	670	Comfortable nights on a down-covered bed
Teallaiġe teó agus móin a doi/ṫin	671	Warm hearths with turf so she wouldn’t freeze
Fallaí fód gan leóiṫne gaoiṫe,	672	Thick sod walls to keep out the breeze,
Foṫain is díon ón sín ’s ón spéir ḋi,	673	Well-secured roofs and doors and windows
Olann is líon le sníoṁ ċum éadaiġ.	674	Wool and linen to weave for clothes
Do b’ḟeasaċ don tsaoġal ’s don ṗéist seo láiṫreaċ	675	’Twas known to the world and to this worm there
Naċ taitneaṁ ná téaḋaṁ ná éanṗuiṫ ġráḋa ḋo	676	That not pleasure or warmth or a love affair
Do ċeangail an péarla maorḋa mná so	677	Drew this pearl of a woman to that block of ice
Aċt easnaṁ go léir,—ba déirc léi an tsástaċt!	678	But that a life of want left her without any choice.
Ba du/ḃaċ an fuadar suairceas oiḋċe	679	With him there would be no nights of pleasure
Smúit is ualaċ duais is líonaḋ,	680	With this fat load, dropsical beyond measure;
Lúiṫne luaiḋe agus guailne caoila	681	With his leaden sinews and narrow shoulder
’S glúine cruaiḋe ċoṁ fuar le hoiḋre,	682	It was hard to see how the night could get colder.
Cosa feóiḋte dóiġte ón ngríosaiġ	683	Along with knarly knees and decaying feet
’S colann ḃreóiḋte ḋreóiġte ċríona.	684	His dry sickly body was no young woman’s treat.
A ḃfuil stuaire beo ná feóiḋfaḋ liaṫ	685	Is there a beauty alive who wouldn’t grow old
Ag cuail dá ẛórt ḃeiṫ pósta riaṁ?	686	If she were married to a crock so cold
Nár ċuarduiġ fós fá ḋó le bliaḋain	687	Who, even twice a year, didn’t have a wish
Cé buaċaill óg í, feóil nó iasc?	688	To see if she was a boy, whether flesh or fish?
’S an feóiḋteaċ fuar so suas léi sínte	689	She had this cold bag of bones lying by her side
Dreóiġte duairc gan buaḋ gan bíoḋgaḋ.	690	Shriveled and woebegone, impotent, stupefied.
Oċ! car ṁuar di bualaḋ bríoġṁar	691	Oh! Wouldn’t she have loved just once a night
Ar nós ba ḋual de uair san oiḋċe.	692	A little affection as was her conjugal right.
Ní dóṫ go dtuigṫar gurab ise ba ċiontaċ	693	I don't believe people’ll think she was to blame
Ná fós go gcliseaḋ ar luige ’n-a tonndaċt	694	That she was an icy and frigid dame
An maiġre mascalaċ carṫannaċ ciúintais--	695	This gentle girl with an amorous heart
Is deiṁin go ḃfeaca sí a ṁalairt de ṁúineaḋ.	696	It wasn’t in her nature to shirk her part.
Ní laḃarfaḋ focal dá mb’ obair an oiḋċe	697	With a lively lover she wouldn’t have quit
’S ṫaḃarfaḋ coṫrom do stollaire ḃíoġṁar.	698	Once she was lighted, you know she’d stay lit.
Go bráċ ar siuḃal níor ḋiúltuiġ riaṁ é,	699	With the proper partner she’d never take flight
Ar ċnáṁ a cúil ’s a súiliḃ iaḋta.	700	Entranced on her back with her eyes shut tight
Ní ṫaḃarfaḋ preab le stailc ṁíċuíḃsaċ,	701	She wouldn’t jump with inappropriate fright
Foġa mar ċat ná straic ná scríob air,	702	Attack like a cat or scratch or bite,
Aċt í go léir ’n-a slaod cósínte,	703	But lie with him in embrace combined
Taoḃ ar ṫaoḃ ’s a géag ’n-a ṫimċeall,	704	Side by side with legs entwined,
Ó scéal go scéal ag bréagaḋ smaointe,	705	Exchanging sweet nothings, little white lies
Béal ar ḃéal ’s ag mearaċt síos air.	706	Lips to lips, fingers stroking his thighs.
Is minic do ċuir sí cos taoḃ ’nonn de,	707	She’d often throw a leg over him in haste,
Is ċuimil a bruis ó ċrios go glún de;	708	Caress him with her brush from knee to waist
Do sciobaḋ an ṗluid ’s an ċuilt dá ġúnga	709	But with this one here, she’d tear quilt from his body
Ag spriongar ’s ag sult le muirt gan su/ḃċus.	710	Seeking to play with that cheerless dogsbody
Níor ċaḃair di coigilt ná cuimilt ná fáscaḋ,	711	Fondling or embracing didn’t stir that beast
Foġa da hingin, dá huillinn, dá sála.	712	Tickling his feet didn’t help in the least
Is nár ḋam aiṫris mar ċaiṫeaḋ sí an oiḋċe	713	I hate to tell you how she’d spend the night
Ag fáscaḋ an ċnaiste, ag searraḋ ’s ag síneaḋ,	714	Tossing and turning in her hopeless plight
Ag feacaḋ na ngéag ’s an t-éadaċ fúiṫi,	715	Clasping the linens, to the bed-rail clinging
A ballaiḃ go léir ’s a déid ar lúiṫċriṫ,	716	Her body shaking and her sweet lips trembling
Go loinnir an lae gan néall go ḋúċaḋ uirṫi,	717	Till the dawn of the day without a wink of sleep
Ag imirt ó ṫaoḃ go taoḃ ’s ag ionfairt.	718	Rocking to and fro in despair deep.
Naċ fuiris don loḃar so laḃairt ar ṁná	719	This leper speaks of women in casual tones
Is gan fuinneaṁ ’n-a ċom ná caḃair ’n-a ċnáṁa,	720	Without life in his loins or strength in his bones
Má d’imṫiġ an ṁoḋṁail ḃí trom ’n-a ġáḃa	721	If it was a gent with a heavy heart
’S gur deineaḋ an ḟoġail seo gaḃaimse a páirt.	722	Who had mounted this attack, I might take his part.
A ḃfuil sionnaċ ar sliaḃ nó iasc i dtráiġ,	723	But is there a fox on the hill or a fish in the mere
Ná fiolar le fiaḋaċ nó fiaḋ le fán	724	A hunting eagle or a wandering deer
Ċom fada gan ċiall le bliaḋain ná lá	725	That’s so much without sense for a day or a year
Do ċaiṫeaṁ gan biaḋ ’s a ḃfiaḋaċ le faġáil?	726	That it’d go hungry when sustenance is near?
An aiṫnid díḃ féin san tsaohgal so cá ḟuil	727	Have any of you heard tell, in the west or the east,
An t-ainṁiḋe claon ná an fe/iṫid fáin	728	Of any class or breed or kind of a beast
Do ṗiocfaḋ an ċré an fraoċ nó an ṗáil	729	That would search for food where nothing grows
Is fiorṫann ’n-a slaoda is féar le faġáil?	730	And ignore the feast beneath its nose?
Aiṫris gan ṁoill, a ċlaḋaire ċráiḋte,	731	Answer me, you blackguard, without delay
Freagair me, faġaimse feiḋm id ráiḋte:--	732	I’d like to hear what you have to say:--
Ca ḃfuil do ḋíṫ ag suiḋe ċum béile?	733	When you sup at an inn, is the food less nutritious
Ar caiṫeaḋ le mí aici a dtiġeas ’n-a féile!	734	If others had found the same menu delicious?
An luigide an ċúil nó an luġaide an láiṫreaċ	735	Is the house weaker, the site less secure
Fiċe milliún má ẛiuḃail le ráiṫe ann?	736	If twenty million had inspected it before
Mairg it ċeann a ẛeandaiġ ṫonnda,	737	Does it really bother you, you stiff old prude
An eagal leat ganntan am do ḋúla!	738	Are you afraid of scarcity when you’re in the mood
An dóṫ a ġliogaire buile gur ḃaoġal duit	739	Do you think it possible, were you to try
Ól na Sionainne tirim nó a taoscaḋ?	740	To drain the Shannon by drinking it dry?
Tráġaḋ na fairrge is tarraint an tsáile?	741	To ebb a neap tide with a jug?
Is clár na mara do scaipeaḋ le scála?	742	Or empty the ocean with a mug?
Breaṫain in am ar leaṁus do smaointe	743	Next time, pause before saying what’s best unsaid
Is ceangail do ċeann le banda timċeall!	744	Wrap a cold compress around your head
Seaċain i dtráṫ, ná fág do ċiall	745	Take a deep breath, don’t lose the rag
Le heagla mná ḃeiṫ fáilteaċ fial;	746	At the thought of women who like to shag
Dá gcaiṫeaḋ sí an lá le cáċ do riar	747	If she spent the whole day entertaining all
Ḃeaḋ tuilleaḋ ’s do ẛáiṫ-se ar fáil ’n-a ndiaiḋ.	748	There’d be still enough for you to have a ball.
Mo ċuṁa is mo ċráḋ baḋ ḃreaġ san éad	749	Bejasus, such jealousy could be understood
Ar lúbaire láidir lánṁear léadṁar	750	In a strapping, stout-hearted, sterling stud
Shanntaċ sáiṫteaċ sásta seasṁaċ	751	Panting, pushing, pulsing, preening
Ramsaċ ráflaċ rábaċ rabairneaċ,	752	Roistering, romping, rollicking, riproaring
Lascaire luaimneaċ, cuardóir coimseaċ,	753	A roving rogue, a sensitive searcher
Balcaire buan nó buailteóir bríoġṁar,	754	A steadfast stalwart, a topnotch thresher
Aċt seanduine seanda crannda cre/imṫeaċ,	755	Not in an ossified oldster, a grumpy grunt
Feamaire fann is feam gan féile.	756	An incompetent idler, a reclusive runt.
Is miṫid dom ċroiḋe ḃeiṫ líonta ’e léiṫe,	757	Now, there’s another matter on my mind
Is m’iongantus trí gaċ smaointe baoṫa	758	That should give pause to womankind:
Cad do-ḃeir scaoilte ó ċoiṁreaċ céile	759	Why are they free of the married state
In eagluis sinsir suim na cléire.	760	All of those priests of our ancient faith.
Mo ċráḋ gan leiġeas, mo ṫreiġid dom ḟáscaḋ,	761	Granted that I might rightly cry and bawl
Is láidir m’ḟoiḋnne is laiġead mo ráige,	762	My patience is great, my rage is small
Is méid a mbíom ar díṫ gan éinne,	763	That, given how much we need a mate,
Is méin ár gcroiḋe fé ẛnaiḋm na héide.	764	Those heart-throbs are taken off the plate.
Naċ boċt an raḋarc do ṁaiġdin ġáḃṁair	765	It’s a pathetic sight for a needy maid
Toirt is taiḋḃse a mbaill ’s a mbreaġṫa,	766	To see how well these priest are made
Bloscaḋ a n-aġaiḋ agus soillse a ngáire,	767	Their rosy cheeks, their smiles so bright
Corp is coim is toill ar táṁċriṫ,	768	Their slender waists, their buttocks tight
Úireaċt, áilneaċt, bláṫ agus óige,	769	Their beauteous forms, their youth so fresh
Raṁdus cnáṁ is meáḋċan feóla,	770	Their straight bones, their well-fed flesh
Martus trom is droim gan suaṫaḋ,	771	Their solid torso and steady back
Neart gan doḃta is fonn gan fuaraḋ.	772	Their undoubted strength, their love of the craic
Bíonn sealḃ gaċ sóġa aca ar ḃórd na saoiṫe,	773	They’re a welcome guest at the table of the seer
Earraḋ agus ór ċum óil is aoiḃinis,	774	They’ve got silver and gold for whiskey and beer
Clúṁ ċum luiġe aca is saill ċum bíhd aca,	775	Down for their beds and salt for their food
Plúr is milseaċt meiḋir is fíonta.	776	The best of wine to put them in the mood
Is gnáṫaċ cumusaċ iomadaċ óg iad	777	Mostly they’re not long past their boyhood
’S tá ḟios againne gur fuil agus feóil iad.	778	And we girls know that they’re flesh and blood
Cuṁa ní ġlacfainn le cafairí coillte,	779	If I thought they were angels or sexless saints
Snaṁairí galair ná searraiġ gan soillse,	780	Or sickly creeps, I’d have no complaints
Aċt malraiḋ bodaċa, tollairí tréana,	781	But they’re lusty youngsters with appetites unsated
I dtáṁġail ċodlata is obair gan déanaṁ!	782	In a torpid sleep while maids are unmated!
Creidim gan ḃréig gur ṁéin le roinn díoḃ	783	Most of these fellows, I truthfully believe,
Feilleaḋ le féile, daor ní ḃeinnse.	784	Are lonely Adams asking God for an Eve
Coṫrom, ní cóir an t-órd le ċéile	785	To be fair, it wouldn’t do
Ċroċaḋ le córda, ġóḃáil ná ḋaoraḋ,	786	To hang the lot because of the few
Bás na droinge, is deiṁin, ní ġráḋfinn	787	Sinking the ship wouldn’t be the right plan,
Lán na luinge ċum duine ní ḃáiṫfinn,	788	Drowning the whole crew to get one man
Cuid aca bíoḋ gur ríciġ riaṁ	789	Some have always been a right shower
Is cuid eile ḃíoḋ gan ríoṁ gan riaġail,	790	Who are in the priesthood for the power
Cinntiġ ċruaḋ gan truaġ gan tréiṫe,	791	Tough old buzzards without any heart
Fíoċṁar fuar is fuaṫ do ḃéiṫe.	792	Who think every woman is just a tart.
Tuilleaḋ aca atá níos fearr ’ná a ċéile,	793	But others are from a different race
Tuilte le gráḋ is le grása féile.	794	Full of love and full of grace.
Is minic a buaiḋtear buaiḋ is gréiṫe	795	Often the well-being of a farm is increased
Cuigeann is cruaċ de ċuaird na cléire.	796	Without just one visit from such a priest.
Is minic lem ċuiṁne maoiḋeaḋ a dtréiṫe	797	I can recall well their virtues being lauded
Is iomad dá ngníoṁarṫa fírġlic féiṫe,	798	The number of their good works applauded,
Is minic do ċuala ar ḟuaid na tíre	799	I often heard throughout the land
Siosarnaċ luaiṫ dá luaḋ go líonṁar,	800	A buzz of appreciation for this band,
Is ċonnairc me taiḋḃseaċ roinn dá ramsa	801	I’ve seen incontrovertible evidence that many a son
Is uiṁir dá gclainn ar ẛloinnte fallsa.	802	Could call a priest a father in more ways than one.
Baineann sé fáscaḋ as lár mo ċléiḃ-se	803	Still, it bothers me greatly at the time
A gcaiṫtar dá sláinte ar ṁná treasaosta	804	They spend on women past their prime,
Is turraing san tír ċum díṫ na mbéiṫe,	805	While many a woman at best stage in life
Ar cuireaḋ gan ḃríġ tsíolraċ naoṁṫa.	806	Is left husbandless when she could be a wife.
Is dealḃ an diaċair dianġuirt d’Éire	807	In Ireland it has been demonstrably cruel
Ar ċailleamair riaṁ le riaġail gan éifeaċt!	808	The damage that’s done by this aimless rule.
Fágaim fút-sa a ċnú na céille	809	The trouble, I assert, O Fount of Wisdom
Fáṫ na cúise is cuṁa na cléire.	810	Is that clerical celibacy is the bane of Christendom
Is meallta meillte luiġid dom ḋóiġh-se.	811	And is nothing if not an abomination.
Is dall gan raḋarc me, soillsiġ m’eolus,	812	I know I’m blind, I need an explanation
Aiṫris, ó’s cuiṁin leat, caínt na ḃfáiḋe	813	Tell us, if you know, the prophets’ sayings
Is apstol an Ríoġ ba ḃíoḋgaċ ráiḋte.	814	What were the Lord’s apostles’ teachings
Ca ḃfuil na coṁaċta d’órduiġ an Dúileaṁ,--	815	Where is it written that the Creator said
Is calcaḋ na feóla i gcoróin na cuṁa so;	816	That the desires of the flesh shouldn’t be fed
Pól dar liúm ní duḃairt le héinne	817	Paul, in my opinion, never held that a vocation
An pósaḋ ḋiúltaḋ aċt drúis do ẛéanaḋ,	818	Required abnegation of marriage, just fornication
Scaraḋ let ġaol dá ṁéid do ġnaoi	819	To leave your relations and your parents’ house
Is ceangal let ẛaoġal is claeḋ let ṁnaoi.	820	And live for life with your wedded spouse.
Is obair gan ḃríġ do ḃean mar táimse	821	Of course, it’s meaningless for a woman like me
Focal den dliġe seo suiḋeaṁ ’ot láṫair,	822	To explain the law to your majesty,
Is cuiṁin leat féin a ṗéarla an taiḋḃse	823	O Spectral Pearl, you remember well
Suiḋeaṁ gaċ scéil is léir ḋuit soillseaċ	824	All of the stories that make up the Gospel
Binnġuṫ buan is buaḋ na mbréiṫre	825	The meaning of the everlasting word
Is caínt an Uain ná luaḋfar bréagaċ,	826	The parables of the Lamb you have heard
Dia nár ḃ’áil leis máṫair aonta,	827	I give God’s married mother as the beau ideal
Is riaġail gaċ fáiḋ i ḃfáḃar béiṫe.	828	And the prophets’:rules promote women’s weal.
Guiḋim go hárd tu, a ḟáiḋḃean tsíḋṫe,	829	O Ghostly Seer, to you I plead
A ẛíolraċ neáṁda a barr na ríġṫe,	830	You who’re descended of heavenly seed
A ẛoillse glóire a ċoróin na sluaiġte,	831	O Glorious Light, O Crown of the Throng
Éist lem ġlór-sa, fóir is fuar ḋúinn;	832	Hear my voice and help us along
Meáiḋ it intinn díṫ na mbéiṫe	833	Keep women’s plight firmly in your mind
Is práinn na mílte brídeaċ aonta,	834	The predicament of single womankind.
Is toiciḃ mar táid ar ḃráġaid a ċéile	835	The number of maids, if this system doesn’t cease,
Ag borraḋ is ag fás mar ál na ngéanna;	836	Will increase and grow like a flock of geese.
An tál is luġa tá ag siuḃal na sráide,	837	The smallest mite that you see in the street
Gárlaiġ ḋuḃa is giúnaċ gránna,	838	Dirty urchins that are decrepit and not neat
An aga dá laiġead má ġeiḃid siad a ndóiṫin	839	You’d see how they’d improve, if they had for a day
Glasraiḋ, meiḋg, is beaġdair bórrfaid;	840	Their fill of vegetables, curds and whey;
D’urċar niṁe le haois gan éifeaċt	841	Like a bolt from the blue, all of a sudden
Tiocfa na cíoċa, scinnfid, scéiḋfid.	842	Their breasts would grow, they’d blossom and strengthen
Scallaḋ mo ċléiḃ! is baoṫ mo smaointe!	843	It wounds my heart and raises my ire
Ag tagairt ar ċéile i gcaorṫaiḃ teinte!	844	And burns my mind with a mass of fire
Is deacair dam súil le súḃċus d’ḟaġáil	845	To see so little prospect for much fun
’S gan fear in aġaiḋ triúir san Ṁuṁain dá mná.	846	With Munstermen outnumbered three to one.
Ó ṫarla an ceanntar gann seo ġáḃṁar,	847	Since the area is so poor and impotent
Fánlag fann, ’s an t-am so práinneaċ,	848	So utterly weak in this time so urgent
Fódla follaṁ is foṫram ag fiaḋaile,	849	An empty Ireland where wastrels bray
Is óige an ṗobail ag cromaḋ is ag liaṫaḋ,	850	And the youth of the country growing grey
Aonta fada go dealḃ gan foiḋnne	851	A long spinsterhood seems a likelihood.
D’éinne ar talaṁ is fear éigin faġaimse.	852	If I could find a man, either bad or good
Ceangail i dtráṫ go tláiṫ fén úġaim iad,	853	I’ll cart him straight away to the altar
’S as san go bráṫaċ fágtar fúinne iad.	854	And tie him for life in a conjugal halter.

 

---

 

Cuid a Cúig: An Breiṫiúnas is an Réiteaċ Tugann Aoiḃeal a breiṫiúnas ar na faḋbanna a ḃí pléite sa Ċúirt. Tairngríonn sí go mbeiḋ cead ag na sagairt pósaḋ go luaṫ agus ceadaíonn sí géarleanúint ar ḟir naċ ḃfuil sásta pósaḋ. Sé an file an ċéad duine a ṫoġtar le sciúirseáil a ḋéanaṁ air.

Part Five: The Judgment and Resolution Aoibheal issues her judgment on the issues brought before the court. She foretells that priests soon will be allowed to marry and she gives permission for the persecution of recalcitrant bachelors. The poet finds to his horror that he is the first to face the music.

D’éiriġ an ṁánla ar ḃarr a bínse,	855	The day was dawning out in the street,
’S do ẛoillsi’ an lá san áit ’n-a timċeall,	856	As Aoibheal rose up from her seat
B’áluinn óg a cló ’s a caoindreaċ,	857	She had a youthful glow on her form and face
B’árd a glór ba ḃeó is ba ḃíoḋgaċ.	858	Her voice was strong and full of grace
D’ḟáisc a dóirne is d’orduiġ deiṁneaċ	859	She clasped her hands and with vehemence
Báille ar bórd ag fógairt Silence.	860	Instructed the bailiff to order Silence
Aduḃairt a béal ḃí ag séideaḋ soillse,--	861	The whole of the court gradually grew quiet
An ċúirt go léir go faon ag éisteaċt:--	862	And she spoke these words in a voice so bright--
Do-ġeiḃimse díreaċ bríġ ċun buaiḋte	863	I find lot’s of merit in the case you bring
’S feiḋm it ċaínt-se a ḃrídeaċ ḃuarṫa.	864	It was a hell of a speech, you poor young thing.
Ċím, ’s is dóiġ gur dóiġte an raḋarc liom,	865	I see, and it’s a sight that’s certainly grave,
Síolraċ Órḟlaiṫ Ṁóire is Ṁeiḋḃe,	866	That the descendants of Orla, Mór and Meave
An seifteóir caol ’s an créatúir claḋarṫa,	867	Are now sly connivers and spineless creatures
An ceisteóir claon ’s an déirceóir doiġearṫa,	868	Creepy characters and poor alms-seekers
Súġ na táire is tál na coimse	869	The lowliest of the low and the fairly well off
Ag súil le sárḟuil sáṁ na saoiṫe.	870	Desperately coveting the bloodlines of the toff.
Aċtáimid mar dliġe do ḃéiṫe	871	These are the laws that will govern from this date:
An seaċt fó ṫrí gan ċoiṁreaċ céile	872	One: He who reaches twenty-one without a mate
Do ṫarraing ar ċeann go teann gan truaiġe	873	Shall be dragged off by the hair of his head
’S a ċeangal don ċrann so i dteannta an tuama.	874	And tied to a tree there among the dead
Bainigiḋe lom de a ċoḃail ’s a ċóta,	875	His coat to be taken and he be made to strip
’S feannaigiḋe a ḋrom ’s a ċom le córda.	876	And the daylights beaten out of him with a whip.
An ċuid aca ṫarla báiḋte i mbliaḋnta	877	Two: Those of the men who are old and sick
’S ċeileas go táir an táirnge tiarpa,	878	Who shamelessly failed to use their prick
Ċuireas amuġa gan suḃċus d’éinne	879	And wasted the best years of their youth
Buile na húṫa is lúṫ a ngéaga,	880	Without giving pleasure however minute
Do ṁeilleas a gcáil is faġáil ar ṁnaoi aca	881	With women willing, they could have had a spree
Ag feiṫeaṁ gan fáṫ ar ḃarr na craoiḃe,	882	But hung round like Mad Sweeney in the tree
Fágaim fúiḃ-se tionnscal páise	883	The design of their torture to you I entrust,
A ṁná na dúile dúḃaḋ le dálgus;	884	You women of dashed and disappointed lust;
Ceapaigiḋe fírniṁ teinte is tairngiḃ,	885	Use female ingenuity to plan the details
Caiṫigiḋe smaointe is inntleaċt ṁná leis,	886	Of a hell of fire and a rack of nails
Cuiriḋ ḃur gcoṁairle i gcoṁar le ċéile,	887	Put your heads together and stay the course
’S tugaimse coṁaċta an fórsa ḋéanaṁ.	888	I’ill give you the power to put it in force
Do-ḃeirim gan spás díḃ páis na gciantaċ,--	889	You are free to punish the old men at will
’S beag liom bás gan barrġoin pian dóiḃ.	890	In their case, I don’t care if you torture or kill.
Ní ċuirimse i ḃfáṫ de ḃarr mo ċaínte	891	In my commission to you, I don’t mind
An foirḃṫeaċ fálta cáslag claoiḋte,	892	How you treat the oldsters, blighted and blind
An gaḃal gan goṫa ná an gola gan geall suilt,	893	With their bony bodies and grimacing grins
An toll gan toraḋ ná an tormaċ fallsa,	894	Their lifeless lions and scabrous skins.
Aċt léigṫar an óige i gcóir ċum síolraiḋ	895	Three: If the young go about the job of copulation
’S déanfa an sórt so clóca is díon dóiḃ.	896	Then my law will protect them from condemnation.
’S minic a do-ċímse rinnsiġ ḃaoṫa	897	I’m grateful when I see working men, sometimes poor
Ag tuitim le tiġeas, is bímse buiḋeaċ díoḃ,	898	Labouring so hard you’d think they’d faint for sure
Gaḃṫa le mná de lá agus d’oiḋċe	899	Affectionate with their wives by day and by night
Ag cosnaṁ a gcáil ’s ar scáiṫ a ngníoṁarṫa;	900	Protecting their good name with all their might
Ag seasaṁ ’n-a ḃfeiḋil is ḃfeiḋm go fálta,	901	Standing by their side because it is right
A n-ainm ar ċlann is ḃeinnse sásta.	902	To see these guys with kids would be such a delight
Do ċuala siolla is do cuireaḋ i ḃásta é--	903	Four: I heard a rumour that I’ve kept under wraps--
Is fuaṫ liom boineannaċ iomadaċ ráiḋteaċ--	904	I can’t stand women who can’t close their traps--
Laḃair go réiḋ is glaeiḋ go híseal,	905	Don’t be too loud in spreading it around
Bos ar do ḃéal, is baoġal ḃeiṫ caínteaċ!	906	Button the lip, safer to stay underground!
Seaċain go fóill na coṁaċtaiġ íogṁair	907	Don’t push it too hard with the bishops yet
’S caiṫfe siad pósaḋ fós pé ċífeas.	908	That they’ll soon be married is a pretty safe bet.
Tiocfaiḋ an lá le lánċéad coṁairle	909	The day will come if you’re quiet diplomats
’S cuirfiḋ an Pápa láṁ na gcoṁaċt air,	910	When the Pope will issue the necessary diktats
Suiḋfe an ċuideaċta ar ṫubaist na tíre,	911	A commission will examine the country’s state
Is scaoilfar ċugaiḃ faoi urċall coiṁriġ	912	And there’ll be released to you, free to mate,
Fiaḋntus fola agus foṫram na feóla	913	Priests with fire in their blood and pulsing flesh
Is mian ḃur dtoile na stollairí teó so.	914	And the pick of these heart-throbs will fall into your mesh.
Éanduine eile dar hoileaḋ ó ṁnaoi ar biṫ--	915	Five: Anyone else who is of woman born
Léiġiḋ a ndeirim is feicim do ḃíoḋga;	916	Read him the riot act if he doesn’t reform
Ar ẛliġe mo ċumuis ná fulaing i gcaoi ar biṫ	917	Don’t have anything to do with sons of bitches
Sraoill gan urraim ná Muirinn i mbríste,	918	Slovens without honour or Muireanns in britches
Aċt leanaid san tóir na feoiḋtiġ liaṫa	919	And Six: Keep on the track of the old greybeards
Is glanaigiḋe Fódla ón sórt seo fiaḋaile!	920	And be sure to clear Ireland of all such weeds.
Caiṫfe me gluaiseaċt uaiḃ ċun siuḃail,	921	That’s it, I must get going, I’ve appointments to keep,
Is fada mo ċuairt-se ar ḟuaid na Muṁan;	922	Many a mile to go before I sleep
An turus tá róṁam ní ḟoġnann moill do,	923	The journey before me won’t brook delay
Is iomad den ġnó anso fós gan éisteaċt.	924	Unfinished business here will wait a new day
Casfa me arís ’s is fíor náċ fáilteaċ	925	I’ll be back, which to some is not good news
D’ḟearaiḃ naċ díon me ṫiġeaċt don áit seo;	926	Those to whom I give the blues;
An ċuid aca atá go táir n-a smaointe,	927	Who burnish their reputations when they spread
Fuireann naċ fuláir leó a gcáil ḃeiṫ sínte,	928	Stories about girls they’ve had in bed
Ṁaoiḋeas le foṫram a gcoṫrom ar ḃéiṫe,	929	Who noisily boast having their way with maids
Ċífe an pobul a gcogair ’s a sméide.	930	So the public will judge them dashing blades
’S taitneaṁaċ leó ’s is dóṫ gur laoċus	931	It gives these poltroons such a rush to the head
Scannal na hóige pósta is aonta,	932	To scandalize the young, both single and wed
Mian a dtoile ní sporann a gcionta,	933	Their motives are not out of concupiscence
Bréantus fola ná borraḋ na drúise,	934	The desires of the flesh or crazed tumescence
Taitneaṁ don ġníoṁ ná fíoċ na féiṫe	935	The pleasure of the act or fire in the veins
Aċt magaḋ na mílte, maooiḋeaṁ a n-éaċta.	936	But the notoriety that their conduct attains.
Ní saínnt dá sóġ ḃeir beó na céadta	937	It’s not pursuing enjoyment that excites their senses
Aċt caínt is gleó agus mórtus laoċuis,	938	But the general hullabaloo caused by their offences.
Mustar is áḃaċt is ráig gan riaġail,	939	Of course, it’s all ostentation, exhibitionism and show
’S a gcumus go tláṫ gan tál gan triall,	940	With no more justification than that a chicken should crow
Go tuisealeaċ tárrlag táṁ ’n-a n-iall,	941	Stumbling, bumbling, impotent, cold
’S cuṫaċ le gáḃa ar a ṁná ’n a ndiaiḋ.	942	They couldn’t arouse a woman for silver or gold.
Glacfad me go réiḋ an méid seo láiṫreaċ,	943	I’d deal with these miscreants right now, right here
Caiṫfe me géilleaḋ ’o ṁéid mo ṗráinneaċ,	944	But I’m out of time, have to pack my gear
Cuirfe me an ḃuiḋean so i gcuing ’s in uġaim	945	I’ll throw the lot of them in the hoosegow
Nuair ṫiocfa me arís san mí seo ċuġainn.	946	When I come back here a month from now.
Do breaṫain me cruinn an ríġḃean réilteaċ,	947	I had observed Aoibheal closely through the night
’S do laguiġ mo ċroiḋe le linn ḃeiṫ réiḋ ḋi,	948	When she finished, I began to feel very uptight
D’airiġ me dásaċt ġránṁar éigin	949	I experienced a profound fit of agitation
Is pairiṫis ḃáis im ċnáṁa ’s im ċéadfaḋ;	950	My body paralyzed, my mind in consternation
Ċonnairc me an tír ’s an tiġeas ar luascaḋ,	951	I thought that the ground and the building were shaking
Is fuinneaṁ a caínte ag rinnce im ċluasa.	952	And with the import of her words, I was also quaking.
Tagann an bíoma bíoḋgaċ báille,	953	The giant bailiff woman strides across the hall
Is leaṫain mo líṫe ar ẛíneaḋ a láiṁe;	954	When she stuck out that paw, I thought I’d fall.
Ṫarraing ar ċluais go stuacaċ stórṫa	955	She angrily grabbed me by the lug
Stracaiṫe suas léi ar uaċtar bóird me.	956	And to the front of the room, I was drug.
Preabann an ḃáb so ċráiḋ an t-aonta,	957	There was the babe who was bummed at her fate
Greadann a láṁa ’s is árd do léim sí.	958	She clapped her hands, and jumping up straight
Is aibiḋ aduḃairt—A ċrústa ċríona	959	She fiercely said: You old bag of slime
Is fada me ag súil let ċúlsa ċíoraḋ,	960	I’ve had my eye on you for a very long time
Is minic do sluiġeaṁ ṫu, a ċroiḋe gan daonnaċt,	961	It’s often I urged you, you heartless carrion
Is miṫid duit stríocaḋ ’o ḋlí na mbéiṫe.	962	That it was time for you to think of marrying.
Cosaint cá ḃfáġaiḋ tu in aġaiḋ na cúise?	963	Who will speak for you against the indictment?
Focal níor ṫuill tu a leaḋb gan lúiṫċlis.	964	You don’t merit one word, you indolent serpent
Ca ḃfuil do ẛaoṫar saor le suiḋṁċan?	965	Where is the proof of your amorous labours?
Ca ḃfuil na béiṫe buiḋeaċ det ġníoṁarṫa?	966	Where are the women who appreciate your favours?
Breaṫainse a ḃaill seo a ṁaiġdean ṁaorḋa,--	967	Let’s examine him carefully, O Royal Lady,
Ainiṁ ní ḃfaġaimse ṁeill ar ḃéiṫe é;	968	We won’t find on him a disabling malady
Breaṫain go cruinn a ġnaoi ’s a ġéaga	969	Give him a once-over, thorough and complete
Ó ḃaiṫeas a ċinn go boinnn a ċaolċos.	970	From the top of his head to the soles of his feet.
Bíoḋ gurab ainiṁeaċ anṁíċúmṫa é	971	Grant you he’s no maiden’s prayer
Ċímse ceangailte a ḃarra gan diúltaḋ	972	But all the essential bits are there.
A ġile ní ġráḋfainn, b’ḟearr liom buiḋe é,	973	He’s too pale for me; I’d prefer him brown,
Is cuma na gcnáṁ—ní ċáinfinn ċoiḋċe	974	About the cut of his physique—well, I don’t frown
Duine mbeaḋ dronn ’n-a ḋrom is fánaḋ--	975	On people who have a hump on their back--
Is minic sin toġa fir cromslinneánaċ;	976	It’s often the one with a bod out of whack
Ba ṁinic sin gambaċ lannsa gníoṁaċ	977	Who is most proficient at wielding the lance
Is ioscada cam ag strompa ḃríoġṁar.	978	And bandy legs don't tell what’s in the pants.
Is fáiṫiḃ foiliġṫeaċ uireasḃaċ éigin	979	Is there a secret nefarious plan
D’ḟág an doirḃṫeaċ foirḃṫe in aonta,	980	That keeps unmarried this aging man
Is méid a ċeana idir ṁaiṫiḃ na tíre,--	981	Given how he’s liked by the lords of the barony
A réim le sealad i gcaradus daoine,	982	And how he lives with other classes in harmony,
Seinnm ar ċeólta spórt is aoiḃneas	983	His single state lets him sport and play
Imirt ’s ól ar ḃórd an saoiṫe,	984	Lets him eat and drink and romp all day
I gcoṁair na fuirinne fuineaḋ as féile,	985	In the quality’s company to dawdle and tarry
An snaṁaire ar b’ḟuiris dom urraim-se géilleaḋ.	986	This shirker who could easily marry
Is taiḋḃseaċ taitneaṁaċ tairḃeaċ tréiṫeaċ	987	Merryman seems a name for a merry man
Meiḋreaċ meanmnaċ a ainm ’s is aeraċ.	988	But, in your case, I must say it just doesn’t scan
Ainṁiḋe ’et ẛórt níor orduiġ an Tiarna,--	989	A creature like you is not in God’s design
Geanmnaiḋe fós i gcoṁgar liaiṫe!	990	A gray-haired virgin is not at all divine
Creaṫaim go bonn le fonn do ḋaorṫa,	991	I’m dying to get you in my grip
Is gairid an ċaḃair do laḃarṫa baoṫa,	992	Your quick lip won’t let you give me the slip
Is coir móḋ is díreaċ suiḋte it éadan--	993	Your crime is stamped in the lines on your forehead--
Deiċ fó ṫrí gan coiṁreaċ céile.	994	That you are age thirty and still not wed.
Éistiġ lium-sa a ċlú na ḃfoiḋnneaċ,	995	Listen to me, O fellow sufferers
Faġaimse congnaḋ i gcúis na maiġdne;	996	This guy is one among those who torture us
An cráḋ ’s an dúlaḋ ṁúċ gan ḃríġ me,	997	The sorrow that has burdened me down,
A ṁná na múirne, is rún liom íoc air.	998	Girls, I want to take it out on this clown.
Congnaiḋ deirim liḃ, beiriḋ air, tóg é,	999	Help me, I ask you, grab the dope;
A Úna goirim ṫu ’s faġ ḋam córda;	1000	Úna, hurry, fetch me a rope
Ca ḃfuil tu, a Áine, ná bí ar iarraiḋ!	1001	Anne, where are you, don’t get lost
Ceangailse, a Ṁáire, a láṁa ar dtaoḃ ṫiar de!	1002	Mary, tie his hands to the post
A Ṁuirinn, a Ṁeaḋḃ, a Ṡaḋḃ ’s a Ṡíle,	1003	Muireann, Meave, Shiela and Saive
Cuiriḋ i ḃfeiḋm le doiġearṫaiḃ díograis	1004	Feel free, go ahead, and skin him alive
Barr gaċ scóla d’orduiġ an tsíḋḃean,	1005	As the fairy lady authorized last night,
Báiṫiḋ sa ḃfeóil gaċ córda snaiḋmeaċ,	1006	Knot the rope good and tight
Toṁais go fial na pianta is cruaiḋe	1007	Be generous with the pain that you deal out
Le tóin ’s le tiarpa Ḃriain, gan truaġ ar biṫ;	1008	To the ass of Brian, the heartless lout;
Tóg na láṁa is arduiġ an sciúirse,	1009	Raise your hands high and lay on the whip
’S sómpla sáṁ é a ṁná na múirne!	1010	Use elbow grease to give it some zip
Gearraigiḋe doiṁin, níor ṫuill sé fáḃar!	1011	He deserves no less, cut him deep with each blow
Bainiḋ an leaḋb ó rinn go sáil de!	1012	Flay him evenly from head to toe
Cloistear a ċling i gcríoċaiḃ Éiḃir	1013	Let the crack of the whip be heard throughout Ireland
’S criṫeaḋ a gcroiḋe ’sna críontaiġ aonta.	1014	Put the fear of God in the unmarried band.
Is ciallṁar ceart an t-aċt é, saoilim,	1015	This new legislation is such a blast
Bliaḋain an aiċt seo is ceart a scríoḃaḋ ḋúinn:--	1016	We have to record the year it was passed:--
Réiḋtiġ, ceil, nó goid de sceiṁle	1017	Figure: one thousand less one hundred and ten
Céad is deiċ fé leiṫ as míle,	1018	Leaves eight hundred and ninety which when
Dúbail ceart an freastal fuiḋlaiġ,	1019	Doubled gives the year Seventeen Eighty
Is ṫúirling Mac an tseaċtṁain roiṁe-sin.	1020	From which we’ll date Year One of our history.
Glacann sí a peann ’s mo ċeann-sa suaiḋte	1021	As she grabbed a pen my head did hang
Ar eagla m’ḟeannta is scannraḋ an ḃuailte;	1022	In terror of more torture from that gang;
An feaḋ do ḃí sí ag scríoḃaḋ an dáta	1023	While she was writing down the date
Is maiṫiḃ an tiġe aici suiḋte ar gárdain,	1024	Which the court members round her could corroborate
Do scaras lem néill, do réiḋeas mo ẛúile,	1025	I woke from my sleep, my pit of despair
’S do ṗreabas de léim ón bpéin ’om ḋúiseaċt!	1026	And realized with relief—it was just a nightmare.

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