Cuirt an Mheán Oíche—The Midnight Court
le/by
Brian Merriman
Foclóir

Cuid a Dó: An Ainnir

Labhraíonn bean óg le maithe na cúirte i dtaobh a cuid trioblóide: nach bhfuil fir óga na tíre ag pósadh agus, mar sin, go bhfuil sí gan chéile.
Glossary

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 deimhin go bhfaca mé ar lasadh le tóirsí139For sure, I saw there ablaze with light
An teaghlach taitneamhach maiseamhach mórtach140What seemed like a stately mansion bright
Soilseach seasmhach lannúil lomrach141Sparkling, spacious, tapestried,
Taibhseach taitheacach daingean dea-dhóirseach,142Spectral, sturdy, brilliant indeed
Chonnaic mé an tsíbhean mhíonla bhéasach143I spied Aoibheal, the fairy wench
Chumais ina suí ar bhínse an tsaoirchirt144Seated on the judge’s bench
Chonnaic mé garda láidir luaimneach145I saw a strong and nimble guard
Iomadúil arrthach tarraingthe suas léi,146Numerously gathered round their ward;
Chonnaic mé láithreach lánteach líonta147I saw a household that was jammed
Ó mhullach go lár de mhná is de dhaoine,148With men and women inside it crammed.
Chonaic mé spéirbhean mhaorga mhallruisc149Then came forward a majestic cailín
Mhilisbhog bhéaltais mhéarlag mhealltach150She was soft and comely, of gentle mien
Thaithneamhach shásta tháclach fhionn151With tumbling tresses framing her face
Ina seasamh in airde ar chlár na mionn.152As on the stand she took her place.
Bhí a gruaig léi scaoilte síos go slaodach153Her hair was loose and flowing free
Is buaireamh suite fíor ina féachaint,154But her face was the picture of misery
Fuinneamh ina radharc is faghairt ina súile155Her eyes were fierce and filled with hate
Is fiuchadh le draighean oilc aighnis fútha;156And she worked herself to such a state
A caint dá cosc le loscadh cléibhe;157That she moaned and heaved and sobbed and sighed
Gan gíog ina tost acht tocht dá traochadh,158But couldn’t speak though hard she tried.
Do b’fhurasta a rá gur bás ba rogha léi159You could see from the flood of tears she shed
Is tuile gan tlás ag tál go trom léi,—160That she’d much prefer if she were dead
Ina seasamh ar lár an chláir ina saighead161Than being on the floor facing the stands
Is í ag greadadh na lámh is ag fáscadh a ladhar.162Kneading her fists and wringing her hands.
An uair do ghoil sí folcthaí fíochmhar163After her protracted jags of crying
Is d’fhuascail osnaí gothaí cainte164She cleared her throat, with much sighing
D’imigh an smúit is d’iompaigh snua uirthi165The gloom lifted from her tear-stained cheek,
Thriomaigh sí a gnúis is dúirt mar inseoidh mé:—166She dried her eyes and started to speak:—
 
“Míle fáilte is gairdeas cléibh romhat,167A thousand welcomes, we guarantee
A Aoibheal, a fháidhbhean ársa on Léithchraig,168O Aoibheal, venerable queen of Craiglea,
A soilse an lae is a ré gan choimse,169Light of the day, Ray of the sun
A shaibhreas shaolta i ngéibhinn daoirse170Worldly wealth for the hard-put-upon
A cheannasach bhuach ó shluaite an aoibhnis,171Conquering commander of the hosts of the blessed
Ba easnamh crua thú i dTuamhumhain is i dTír Luirc;172In Thomond and Tír Lorc you were sorely missed;
Sé túis mo cháis is fáth mo chaointe173The crux of my case, the cause of my woe
Cúis do chráigh mé is d’fhág me claoite174The ache that has plagued me and laid me low
Bhain dem threoir mé is sheol gan chiall mé,175What knocked me sideways and struck me dumb
Is chaith mar cheo mé dóite i bpianta,—176Caused a searing pain that left me numb,—
Na sluaite imíonn gan chríoch gan chaomhnú177The finest of maidens wandering around
Ar fud an tsaoil seo d’fhíorscoth béithe178Without hope of a husband, a shilling or pound,
Ina gcailleacha dubha gan cumhdach céile179Despondent young things without help of a mate
Caite gan clú gan cionnta claoin-bheart.180Innocently barred from the matrimonial state.
Is aithnid dom féin sa mhéad seo shiúlas181I know these maidens whereof I speak
Bean agus céad nár mhian leo a dhiúltadh182One hundred and one for whom prospects are bleak
Is mise in a measc mo chreach mar táimse183I list myself among these wrecks:
D’imigh im spaid gan fear gan pháiste.184I got my gender but I get no sex
Mo dhochar mo dhó mo bhrón mar bhím185At my time of life, ’tis depressing and cold
Gan sochar gan só gan seod gan síth,186Doing without luxuries, jewels and gold,
Go doilbhir duaiseach duamhar díothach187Gloomy and cheerless is my plight
Gan codladh gan suan gan suairceas oíche,188Unable to sleep through the pleasureless night,
Ach maslaithe i mbuairt gan suaimhneas sínte189But tossed with worry lying there
Ar leaba leamh-fhuar dár suathadh ag smaointe.190On a chilly bed, alone not a pair.
A cháidh na Carraige breathain go bíogach191O Lady of Craiglea, you must assess
Mná na Banba in anacair suite,192The extent of Irish women’s distress,
Ar nós má leanann siad na fir dá bhfuadar193How, if the men continue with their ways,
Óch, mo lagar! ach caithfimidne a bhfuadach.194Alas, women will have to make the plays
Sé am gur mhian leo céile phósadh195By the time the men are disposed to wed
An t-am gur dhéirc le héinne gabháil leo!196They’re no longer worth our while to bed
An t-am nár bhfiú bheith fúthu sínte—197And it’ll be no fun to lie below
Na seandaigh thamhanda shúite chloíte.198Those old men who are so weak and slow.
Dá dtiteadh amach le teas na hóige199Even if, with a young man’s fire,
Duine fén seacht ar theacht féasóige200One in seven of the beardless were to desire
Ceangal le bean, ní míntais thoghfaidh—201To mate with a lass of his own age
Thaitneamhach shuite de shíol ná d’fhoghlaim,202He wouldn’t choose the noble or sage
Cló-dheas chaoin nó míonla mhánla203With an hour-glass figure and a knockout face
A mb’eól di suí ná teacht do láthair,204One who can carry herself with grace
Ach doineantach odhar nó donn doilíosach205But an icy, cheerless, catty bitch
Do chruinnigh le doghrainn cabhair nach cuí di!206Who used all her guile to make herself rich.
 
Sé chrá mo chroí is do scaoil gan chiall mé207It’s the scourge of my heart and a pain in my head
Is d’fhág mo smaointe is m’intinn traochta208And fills my thoughts with a sense of dread
Tráite tinn mar táim, go tréithlag,209It’s what has made me sad and sighing
Cráite cloíte ag caí is ag géarghol,—210Totally wasted with all this crying,—
Nuair a fheicim preabaire calma croíúil211When I see a lad who’s brave and cool
Fuadrach fearúil barrúil bríomhar212Who is virile, vigorous and strong as a mule
Stuama feasach seasmhach saoithiúil213Who is steadfast, skillful, bright as a pin
Gruaidhdheas greannmhar geanúil gnaoidhúil,214Fresh-faced, funny, with a ready grin
Nó buachaill bastallach beachanta bróigdheas215Or a boy who is frisky, frolicky, fun
Cruaidhcheart ceanasach ceapaithe córach216With a well-built body, second to none
Buaite ceannaithe ceangailte pósta217Beaten, bought, bound unawares
Ag fuaid ag cailleach ag amaid nó ag óinmhid,218By a hussy who’s extremely light upstairs
Nó ag suairtle salach de chaile gan tionscal,219Or a slovenly slattern, a workless wench
Stuacach stalcach aithiseach stangach220Who’d make you gag with her noisome stench
Suaiteach sotalach foclach fáidhiúil221A prating, prattling, babbling bag
Cuardach codlatach gairgeach gráiniúil.222An indolent, irritable, horrible hag.
Mo chreach is mo lot! Tá molt míbhéasach,223My God, I hear that an ill-mannered mare
Caile na gcos is folt gan réiteach,224With unshod feet and uncombed hair
Dá ceangal anocht is é loisc go léir mé,225Is to be hitched tonight which I find really grating;
Is cá bhfuil mo locht nach dtoghfaí mé roimpi?226What’s wrong with me that I’m left here waiting?
Créad an t-ábhar ná tabharfaí grá dom227What is the reason that no one loves me
Is mé chomh leabhair, chomh modhúil chomh breá seo?228And I so lissome, so svelt and so lovely?
Is deas mo bhéal, mo dhéad is mo gháire,229My lips so red are made to be kissed
Is geal mo ghné, is tá m’éadan tláth tais,230My face so bright it cannot be missed
Is glas mo shúil, tá m’urla scáineach231My eyes are green, my locks are flowing
Bachallach búclach cúplach fáinneach,232Curly and plaited and healthily glowing
Mo leaca is mo ghúis gan smúit gan máchail233My forehead and cheeks are without zits or boils
Tarraingthe cumtha lonrach scáfar234A porcelain complexion that nothing spoils.
Mo phíob, mo bhráid, mo lámha, mo mhéara,235My neck, my breast, my hand, my finger
Ag síorbhreith barr na háille ó chéile.236Each would make a young lad linger.
Féach mo chom! Nach leabhair mo chnámha,237Look at my waist, my fine bone frame
Níl mé lom ná crom ná stágach,238I’m not crooked or hunched or lame
Seo toll is cosa is colann nach náir liom239A butt, a foot, a figure to impress
Is an togha go socair fé chover ná tráchtaim.240I’ll not go into what’s beneath my dress.
Ní suairtle caile ná sreangaire mná mé241I’m not a hussy, nor yet a drip
Ach stuaire cailce tá taitneamhach breá deas,242But a delicate beauty with lots of zip,
Ní sraoill ná slaid ná luid gan fáscadh243Not a slovenly, slatternly pig
Ná smíste duirc gan sult gan sásamh,244Nor a joyless boorish prig.
Lóisteach lofa ná toice gan éifeacht,245Not a lazy laggard with no clout
Ach ógbhean scotha chomh tofa is is féidir.246But a choice young woman well turned out
Dá mbeinnse silte mar tuilleadh de mo chomharsana,247If I were as worthless as some of my neighbours
Leadhbach liosta gan tuiscint gan eolas,248A tiresome tramp who never labours
Gan radharc, gan ghliceas in imirt mo chóra,249In the ways of the world without foresight or flair
Mo threighid! cár mhisde mé rith in éadóchas?250What would it matter if I fell into despair?
Ní fhacthas fós mé i gcóngar daoine,251But it has never been on people’s tongue
Ag faire nó ag tórramh óg ná críona,252That, at wake or funeral for old or young,
Ar mhachaire an bháire an ráis nó na rince,253In the hall for the dances or at the race track
I bhfarradh na dtáinte ar bánta líonta,254On the hurling pitch among the pack
Ach gafa go sámh gan cháim ar domhan255I wasn’t dressed from head to toe
I gculaith shásta ó bharr go bonn.256In a tasty costume fit for a show.
Beidh a cheart im chúl de phúdar fillte,257My hair is powdered to a T
Starch is stiúir i gcúl mo chaidhpe,258My starched cap riding jauntily
Húda geal gan ceal ribíní259My bright-hued hood with ribbons galore
Gúna breac is a cheart ruffaí leis;260A polka dress with a ruffled pinafore
Is annamh go brách gan fásáil aerach261And I’m seldom without it, except in bed,
Thaitneamhach bhreá le mo cheárdán craorag,262My cardinal cloak of deepest red.
Is an iomaí luibheanna craobh is éanlaith263My striped cambric apron is fit for a queen
Ar m’aprún síogach ríoga cambric;264Embroidered with a plant and animal scene
Sála cumtha cúnga córach265Stiletto heels attached with screws
Arda sleamhaine ar screw faoi mo bhróga,266Give a lift to my fashionable shoes
Búclaí is fáinní is láimhne síoda,267Gloves of silk and buckles and rings
Fonsaí bráisléidí is lásaí daora.268These are a few of my favourite things.
Seachain, ná síl gur sceinnteach scáfar,269But beware, don’t think I’m loose a screw
Amaid gan ghaois nó naíondacht náireach270A witless fool or quaking ingenue
Eaglach uaigneach uallach fhiáin mé,271Who’s timorous, lonesome, whimpering, weak
Gealtach gan ghuais gan stuaim gan téagar;272A simpering, cowering, beaten-down freak.
I bhfolach ní rachainnse ó radharc na gcéadta,273I will not go and hide from the crowd,
Is ceannasach taibhseach m’aghaidh agus m’éadan,274For my face is imperious, noble and proud
Is dearfa bhím dom shíorthaispeánadh275And I can assure you I’m always displayed
Ar mhachaire mhín gach fíoriomána,276On the level pitch where games are played
Ag rince, ag báire, rás is radaireacht,277At dances, races and masquerades
Tinte cnámh is ráfla is ragairne,278Round bonfires, at raffles and parades
Ag aonach margadh is Aifreann Domhnaigh,279At Sunday Mass and in market squares
Ag éileamh breathnaithe, ag amharc gach togha fir.280Sashaying before males, inviting their stares.
Chaitheas mo chiall le fiach gan éifeacht,281But I’m at my wits end in the mating mart
Dhalladar riamh mé, d’iaighdear m’ae ionam.282I’ve nothing to show for it but a broken heart.
Tar éis mo chumainn, mo thurraing, mo ghrá dóibh,283After all that effort, after all my flirtation
Tar éis ar fhulaing mé d’iomad cránais,284After all I’ve suffered in aggravation
Tar éis ar chailleas le caitheamh na scálaí,285After all the times my fortune was read
Béithe balbha is cailleacha cártaí.286By toothless prognosticators looking ahead
Níl cleas dá mb’fhéidir léamh ná trácht air287There’s not a stroke that can still amaze,
Le teacht na ré nó tar éis bheith lán di,288From the waxing moon to its waning phase
Um Inid nó um Shamhain nó ar shiúl na bliana289From Shrove Tuesday to All Saints Night,
Ná tuigim gur leamhas bheith ag súil le ciall as.290By making sense of my dispiriting plight.
Níorbh áil liom codladh go socair aon uair díobh291I could never sleep peacefully in my bed
Gan lán mo stoca de thorthaí faoi mo chluasa,292Without a sockful of fruit under my head;
Is deimhin nárbh obair liom troscadh le cráifeacht,293’Twas surely no bother to devoutly fast,
Is greim nó blogam ní shlogainn trí trátha,294Three canonical hours between each repast;
In aghaidh an tsrutha do thumainn mo léine,295Against the current I’d wash my clothes
Ag súil trí mo chodladh le cogar ó mo chéile,296In the hopes that a bachelor would propose.
Is minic do chuaigh mé ag scuabadh an staca,297Often I would go and sweep out the byre
Ingne is gruaig faoin luaith-ghríos d’fhágainn,298And my nails and hair I would throw in the fire;
Chuirinn an tsúiste faoi chúl an ghabhail,299The flail I’d hide in the gable’s shade
Chuirinn an rámhainn go ciúin faoin adhairt chugam,300By the head of my bed I’d place the spade
Chuirinn an choigeal i gcillín na háithe,301I would put my distaff in the lime kiln
Chuirinn mo cheirtlín i dtine aoil Mhic Rághnaill,302I’d secrete my yarn-ball in Reynolds’ mill
Chuirinn an ros ar chorp na sráide303I’d scatter seed on the crown of the street
Chuirinn san tsop chugam tor cabáiste.304I’d stick a cabbage beneath the sheet.
Níl cleas acu siúd dá ndúras láithreach305From my recital it’s clear I don’t miss a trick
Ná hagraíonn cúnamh an deamhain is a bhráthar,306To see if I could get help from Old Nick
Sé fáth mo scéil go léir is a bhrí dhuit307But the end of my story, the result of my tale
Mar táim gan chéile tar éis mo dhíchill,308In spite of my efforts I’ve still got no male.
Fáth mo sheanchais fhada, mo phianchreach,309And what’s really painful and makes me gasp
Táim in achrann dhaingean na mblianta,310Is how firmly I’m in the calendar’s grasp;
Ag tarraing go tréan ar laethanta liatha311With grey old age rushing towards me undaunted
Is eagal liom éag gan éinne dom iarraidh.312I’m terrified I’ll die alone and unwanted.
A Phéarla ó Pharrthas screadaim is glaoim ort,313Pearl of Paradise, please hear my prayers
Éiric m’anama ort, aitim thú is éim ort,314Have mercy, I beg you, and lighten my cares
Seachain ná scaoil mé im shraoill gan aird315Be sure not to leave me a ne’er-to-be wife
Nó im chailleach gan chríoch gan bhrí gan bhláth,316With a mateless, meaningless, loveless life
Gan chara gan chlann gan chom gan chairde317Without friends or family, a roof o’er my head
Ar theallacha draighin gan feidhm gan fáilte.318Depending on strangers for my daily bread.
Dar a fuil uimpi tinte is toirneach!319By the thunder and the lightning in the sky
Dalladh mé suite maoite im óinmhid,320It proves me a fool, my life gone awry
Sealbh gach só ag rogha gach díogha,321That, in front of my face, Ireland’s biggest bitches
Is ag ainnibh na Fóla os comhair mo shúl.322Are wallowing in wealth and reveling in riches
Tá somach ag Saidhbh go saibhir sámhach,323Saive snared a sucker with silver to spare
Muirinn i meidhir is a haghaidh ar a nuachar,324Muireann makes merry in her lover’s lair
Mór is Mairsile i macnas múchta,325Mór and Mairsile wench wantonly
Is mórchuid magaidh orthu ag fachnaoid fúmsa;326And all of them make a mockery of me
Is giodamach sámh í Sláinge, is Síle327Slaney and Shiela sparkle and glitter
Sisile is Áine is ál ina dtimpeall,328Cecily and Anne each have their litter
Tuilleadh mar tá siad de mhná na tíre329There are others like them throughout the land
Is mise mar táim gan tál gan tsíolrach.330While milkless and childless before you I stand.
 
Is fada gan feidhm is foighne domsa é,331I’ve been powerless but patient for far too long
Lagar dom leá is mo leigheas im chumhachta332I can overcome my weakness and right this wrong:
Maille le luibhne díblí dreoite333Potions from dried-up herbs I’ll wring
Is ortha draíochta chloífeas fós dom334Over which magic incantations I’ll sing.
Buachaill deas nó gas galánta335That should snare a strapping young chap
Bhuaifeas ceart a shearc is a ghrá dhom.336Whom, in a web of love, I will trap.
Do chonnaic mé go leor den tsórt dá dhéanamh337’Tis many I have seen who play this game
Is chuirfinn i gcóir na cóngar chéanna;338Watch out! I’m about to do the same
Is daingean an cúnamh ag dúbailt daoine339It’s a great help for coupling, so they allege
Greamanna d’úlla is púdar luíbhne,340To mix crushed apples and powdered veg
Magairlín meidhreach, meill na mbuailte,341The purple orchid is an aphrodisiac
Taithigín taibhseach, toill na tuairte,342With mandrake’s root I will attack
Mealladh na minseach, claíomh na mbonsach,343And other plants that I cannot name
An cumainnín buí is an draíocht chun drúise.344I’ll use with great relish in this ballgame
Duilliúr dóite ar nós gur rún é,345There’s the top secret about leaves that are burned
Is tuilleadh den tsórt nach cóir a mhúineadh.346And other like intrigues that cannot be learned.
Do b’iontas mór i dTuamhumhain le chéile347You know it took all Thomond by surprise
An bhruinneall seo thuas ag buachan céile;348When a certain old nobody caught her prize
Is d’inis sí domsa, ar ndóigh, trí rún,349She told me how—in confidence, indeed—
Um Inid is í pósta ó bhord na Samhna350That from Shrove to Samhain (when to wed he agreed)
Nár ibh is nár ól ach an feoithneach fionn351She had drunk no wine nor ate no bread
Is cuillibh na móna dóite ar lionn.352But lived on a diet of burnt spiders instead.
Is fada mé ag foighneamh, faighimse fuascailt,353So, I’ve long been waiting; I’m changing my fate
Seachain ar mhoill mé, saighead chun luais é;354Don’t try to stop me, when I’m out of the gate.
Muna bhfuil leigheas dom threighid i do chuairtse355If, from your visit, a resolution doesn’t appear
Cuirfidh mé faghairt i bhfeidhm má’s crua dom.356Then it’s on to Plan B and I’m outta here.
Deireadh do Chuid a Dó

End of Part Two

Ar Aghaidh go Cuid a Trí On To Part Three

Fill ar ais ar Chlár Chinn na Cúirte/ Return to the Midnight Court Main Page