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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.
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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 wed. |
Is deimhin go bhfaca mé ar lasadh le tóirsí 139 For sure, I saw there ablaze with light An teaghlach taitneamhach maiseamhach mórtach 140 What seemed like a stately mansion bright Soilseach seasmhach lannúil lomrach 141 Sparkling, spacious, tapestried, Taibhseach taitheacach daingean dea-dhóirseach, 142 Spectral, sturdy, brilliant indeed Chonnaic mé an tsíbhean mhíonla bhéasach 143 I spied Aoibheal, the fairy wench Chumais ina suí ar bhínse an tsaoirchirt 144 Seated on the judge’s bench Chonnaic mé garda láidir luaimneach 145 I saw a strong and nimble guard Iomadúil arrthach tarraingthe suas léi, 146 Numerously gathered round their ward; Chonnaic mé láithreach lánteach líonta 147 I saw a household that was jammed Ó mhullach go lár de mhná is de dhaoine, 148 With men and women inside it crammed. Chonaic mé spéirbhean mhaorga mhallruisc 149 Then came forward a majestic cailín Mhilisbhog bhéaltais mhéarlag mhealltach 150 She was soft and comely, of gentle mien Thaithneamhach shásta tháclach fhionn 151 With tumbling tresses framing her face Ina seasamh in airde ar chlár na mionn. 152 As on the stand she took her place. Bhí a gruaig léi scaoilte síos go slaodach 153 Her hair was loose and flowing free Is buaireamh suite fíor ina féachaint, 154 But her face was the picture of misery Fuinneamh ina radharc is faghairt ina súile 155 Her eyes were fierce and filled with hate Is fiuchadh le draighean oilc aighnis fútha; 156 And she worked herself to such a state A caint dá cosc le loscadh cléibhe; 157 That she moaned and heaved and sobbed and sighed Gan gíog ina tost acht tocht dá traochadh, 158 But couldn’t speak though hard she tried. Do b’fhurasta a rá gur bás ba rogha 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 Ina seasamh ar lár an chláir ina saighead 161 Than being on the floor facing the stands Is í ag greadadh na lámh is ag fáscadh a ladhar. 162 Kneading her fists and wringing her hands. An uair do ghoil sí folcthaí fíochmhar 163 After her protracted jags of crying Is d’fhuascail osnaí gothaí cainte 164 She cleared her throat, with much sighing D’imigh an smúit is d’iompaigh snua uirthi 165 The gloom lifted from her tear-stained cheek, Thriomaigh sí a gnúis is dúirt mar inseoidh mé:— 166 She dried her eyes and started to speak:—
Chonaic mé spéirbhean mhaorga mhallruisc
| Míle fáilte is gairdeas cléibh romhat, | 167 | A thousand welcomes, we guarantee |
| A Aoibheal, a fháidhbhean ársa on Léithchraig, | 168 | O Aoibheal, venerable queen of Craiglea, |
| A soilse an lae is a ré gan choimse, | 169 | Light of the day, Ray of the sun |
| A shaibhreas shaolta i ngéibhinn daoirse | 170 | Worldly wealth for the hard-put-upon |
| A cheannasach bhuach ó shluaite an aoibhnis, | 171 | Conquering commander of the hosts of the blessed |
| Ba easnamh crua thú i dTuamhumhain is i dTír Luirc; | 172 | In Thomond and Tír Lorc you were sorely missed; |
| Sé túis mo cháis is fáth mo chaointe | 173 | The crux of my case, the cause of my woe |
| Cúis do chráigh mé is d’fhág me claoite | 174 | The ache that has plagued me and laid me low |
| Bhain dem threoir mé is sheol gan chiall mé, | 175 | What knocked me sideways and struck me dumb |
| Is chaith mar cheo mé dóite i bpianta,— | 176 | Caused a searing pain that left me numb,— |
| Na sluaite imíonn gan chríoch gan chaomhnú | 177 | The finest of maidens wandering around |
| Ar fud an tsaoil seo d’fhíorscoth béithe | 178 | Without hope of a husband, a shilling or pound, |
| Ina gcailleacha dubha gan cumhdach céile | 179 | Despondent young things without help of a mate |
| Caite gan clú gan cionnta claoin-bheart. | 180 | Innocently barred from the matrimonial state. |
| Is aithnid dom féin sa mhéad seo shiúlas | 181 | I know these maidens whereof I speak |
| Bean agus céad nár mhian leo a dhiúltadh | 182 | One hundred and one for whom prospects are bleak |
| Is mise in a measc mo chreach mar táimse | 183 | I list myself among these wrecks: |
| D’imigh im spaid gan fear gan pháiste. | 184 | I got my gender but I get no sex |
| Mo dhochar mo dhó mo bhrón mar bhím | 185 | At my time of life, ’tis depressing and cold |
| Gan sochar gan só gan seod gan síth, | 186 | Doing without luxuries, jewels and gold, |
| Go doilbhir duaiseach duamhar díothach | 187 | Gloomy and cheerless is my plight |
| Gan codladh gan suan gan suairceas oíche, | 188 | Unable to sleep through the pleasureless night, |
| Ach maslaithe i mbuairt gan suaimhneas sínte | 189 | But tossed with worry lying there |
| Ar leaba leamh-fhuar dár suathadh ag smaointe. | 190 | On a chilly bed, alone not a pair. |
| A cháidh na Carraige breathain go bíogach | 191 | O Lady of Craiglea, you must assess |
| Mná na Banba in anacair suite, | 192 | The extent of Irish women’s distress, |
| Ar nós má leanann siad na fir dá bhfuadar | 193 | How, if the men continue with their ways, |
| Óch, mo lagar! ach caithfimidne a bhfuadach. | 194 | Alas, women will have to make the plays |
| Sé am gur mhian leo céile phósadh | 195 | By the time the men are disposed to wed |
| An t-am gur dhéirc le héinne gabháil leo! | 196 | They’re no longer worth our while to bed |
| An t-am nár bhfiú bheith fúthu sínte— | 197 | And it’ll be no fun to lie below |
| Na seandaigh thamhanda shúite chloíte. | 198 | Those old men who are so weak and slow. |
| Dá dtiteadh amach le teas na hóige | 199 | Even if, with a young man’s fire, |
| Duine fén seacht ar theacht féasóige | 200 | One in seven of the beardless were to desire |
| Ceangal le bean, ní míntais thoghfaidh— | 201 | To mate with a lass of his own age |
| Thaitneamhach shuite de shíol ná d’fhoghlaim, | 202 | He wouldn’t choose the noble or sage |
| Cló-dheas chaoin nó míonla mhánla | 203 | With an hour-glass figure and a knockout face |
| A mb’eól di suí ná teacht do láthair, | 204 | One who can carry herself with grace |
| Ach doineantach odhar nó donn doilíosach | 205 | But an icy, cheerless, catty bitch |
| Do chruinnigh le doghrainn cabhair nach cuí di! | 206 | Who used all her guile to make herself rich. |
Sé chrá mo chroí is do scaoil gan chiall mé
| Sé chrá mo chroí is do scaoil gan chiall mé | 207 | It’s the scourge of my heart and a pain in my head |
| Is d’fhág mo smaointe is m’intinn traochta | 208 | And fills my thoughts with a sense of dread |
| Tráite tinn mar táim, go tréithlag, | 209 | It’s what has made me sad and sighing |
| Cráite cloíte ag caí is ag géarghol,— | 210 | Totally wasted with all this crying,— |
| Nuair a fheicim preabaire calma croíúil | 211 | When I see a lad who’s brave and cool |
| Fuadrach fearúil barrúil bríomhar | 212 | Who is virile, vigorous and strong as a mule |
| Stuama feasach seasmhach saoithiúil | 213 | Who is steadfast, skillful, bright as a pin |
| Gruaidhdheas greannmhar geanúil gnaoidhúil, | 214 | Fresh-faced, funny, with a ready grin |
| Nó buachaill bastallach beachanta bróigdheas | 215 | Or a boy who is frisky, frolicky, fun |
| Cruaidhcheart ceanasach ceapaithe córach | 216 | With a well-built body, second to none |
| Buaite ceannaithe ceangailte pósta | 217 | Beaten, bought, bound unawares |
| Ag fuaid ag cailleach ag amaid nó ag óinmhid, | 218 | By a hussy who’s extremely light upstairs |
| Nó ag suairtle salach de chaile gan tionscal, | 219 | Or a slovenly slattern, a workless wench |
| Stuacach stalcach aithiseach stangach | 220 | Who’d make you gag with her noisome stench |
| Suaiteach sotalach foclach fáidhiúil | 221 | A prating, prattling, babbling bag |
| Cuardach codlatach gairgeach gráiniúil. | 222 | An indolent, irritable, horrible hag. |
| Mo chreach is mo lot! Tá molt míbhéasach, | 223 | My God, I hear that an ill-mannered mare |
| Caile na gcos is folt gan réiteach, | 224 | With unshod feet and uncombed hair |
| Dá ceangal anocht is é loisc go léir mé, | 225 | Is to be hitched tonight which I find really grating; |
| Is cá bhfuil mo locht nach dtoghfaí mé roimpi? | 226 | What’s wrong with me that I’m left here waiting? |
| Créad an t-ábhar ná tabharfaí grá dom | 227 | What is the reason that no one loves me |
| Is mé chomh leabhair, chomh modhúil chomh breá seo? | 228 | And I so lissome, so svelt and so lovely? |
| Is deas mo bhéal, mo dhéad is mo gháire, | 229 | My lips so red are made to be kissed |
| Is geal mo ghné, is tá m’éadan tláth tais, | 230 | My face so bright it cannot be missed |
| Is glas mo shúil, tá m’urla scáineach | 231 | My eyes are green, my locks are flowing |
| Bachallach búclach cúplach fáinneach, | 232 | Curly and plaited and healthily glowing |
| Mo leaca is mo ghúis gan smúit gan máchail | 233 | My forehead and cheeks are without zits or boils |
| Tarraingthe cumtha lonrach scáfar | 234 | A porcelain complexion that nothing spoils. |
| Mo phíob, mo bhráid, mo lámha, mo mhéara, | 235 | My neck, my breast, my hand, my finger |
| Ag síorbhreith barr na háille ó chéile. | 236 | Each would make a young lad linger. |
| Féach mo chom! Nach leabhair mo chnámha, | 237 | Look at my waist, my fine bone frame |
| Níl mé lom ná crom ná stágach, | 238 | I’m not crooked or hunched or lame |
| Seo toll is cosa is colann nach náir liom | 239 | A butt, a foot, a figure to impress |
| Is an togha go socair fé chover ná tráchtaim. | 240 | I’ll not go into what’s beneath my dress. |
| Ní suairtle caile ná sreangaire mná mé | 241 | I’m not a hussy, nor yet a drip |
| Ach stuaire cailce tá taitneamhach breá deas, | 242 | But a delicate beauty with lots of zip, |
| Ní sraoill ná slaid ná luid gan fáscadh | 243 | Not a slovenly, slatternly pig |
| Ná smíste duirc gan sult gan sásamh, | 244 | Nor a joyless boorish prig. |
| Lóisteach lofa ná toice gan éifeacht, | 245 | Not a lazy laggard with no clout |
| Ach ógbhean scotha chomh tofa is is féidir. | 246 | But a choice young woman well turned out |
| Dá mbeinnse silte mar tuilleadh de mo chomharsana, | 247 | If I were as worthless as some of my neighbours |
| Leadhbach liosta gan tuiscint gan eolas, | 248 | A tiresome tramp who never labours |
| Gan radharc, gan ghliceas in imirt mo chóra, | 249 | In the ways of the world without foresight or flair |
| Mo threighid! cár mhisde mé rith in éadóchas? | 250 | What would it matter if I fell into despair? |
| Ní fhacthas fós mé i gcóngar daoine, | 251 | But it has never been on people’s tongue |
| Ag faire nó ag tórramh óg ná críona, | 252 | That, at wake or funeral for old or young, |
| Ar mhachaire an bháire an ráis nó na rince, | 253 | In the hall for the dances or at the race track |
| I bhfarradh na dtáinte ar bánta líonta, | 254 | On the hurling pitch among the pack |
| Ach gafa go sámh gan cháim ar domhan | 255 | I wasn’t dressed from head to toe |
| I gculaith shásta ó bharr go bonn. | 256 | In a tasty costume fit for a show. |
| Beidh a cheart im chúl de phúdar fillte, | 257 | My hair is powdered to a T |
| Starch is stiúir i gcúl mo chaidhpe, | 258 | My starched cap riding jauntily |
| Húda geal gan ceal ribíní | 259 | My bright-hued hood with ribbons galore |
| Gúna breac is a cheart ruffaí leis; | 260 | A polka dress with a ruffled pinafore |
| Is annamh go brách gan fásáil aerach | 261 | And I’m seldom without it, except in bed, |
| Thaitneamhach bhreá le mo cheárdán craorag, | 262 | My cardinal cloak of deepest red. |
| Is an iomaí luibheanna craobh is éanlaith | 263 | My striped cambric apron is fit for a queen |
| Ar m’aprún síogach ríoga cambric; | 264 | Embroidered with a plant and animal scene |
| Sála cumtha cúnga córach | 265 | Stiletto heels attached with screws |
| Arda sleamhaine ar screw faoi mo bhróga, | 266 | Give a lift to my fashionable shoes |
| Búclaí is fáinní is láimhne síoda, | 267 | Gloves of silk and buckles and rings |
| Fonsaí bráisléidí is lásaí daora. | 268 | These are a few of my favourite things. |
| Seachain, ná síl gur sceinnteach scáfar, | 269 | But beware, don’t think I’m loose a screw |
| Amaid gan ghaois nó naíondacht náireach | 270 | A witless fool or quaking ingenue |
| Eaglach uaigneach uallach fhiáin mé, | 271 | Who’s timorous, lonesome, whimpering, weak |
| Gealtach gan ghuais gan stuaim gan téagar; | 272 | A simpering, cowering, beaten-down freak. |
| I bhfolach ní rachainnse ó radharc na gcéadta, | 273 | I will not go and hide from the crowd, |
| Is ceannasach taibhseach m’aghaidh agus m’éadan, | 274 | For my face is imperious, noble and proud |
| Is dearfa bhím dom shíorthaispeánadh | 275 | And I can assure you I’m always displayed |
| Ar mhachaire mhín gach fíoriomána, | 276 | On the level pitch where games are played |
| Ag rince, ag báire, rás is radaireacht, | 277 | At dances, races and masquerades |
| Tinte cnámh is ráfla is ragairne, | 278 | Round bonfires, at raffles and parades |
| Ag aonach margadh is Aifreann Domhnaigh, | 279 | At Sunday Mass and in market squares |
| Ag éileamh breathnaithe, ag amharc gach togha fir. | 280 | Sashaying before males, inviting their stares. |
| Chaitheas mo chiall le fiach gan éifeacht, | 281 | But I’m at my wits end in the mating mart |
| Dhalladar riamh mé, d’iaighdear m’ae ionam. | 282 | I’ve nothing to show for it but a broken heart. |
| Tar éis mo chumainn, mo thurraing, mo ghrá dóibh, | 283 | After all that effort, after all my flirtation |
| Tar éis ar fhulaing mé d’iomad cránais, | 284 | After all I’ve suffered in aggravation |
| Tar éis ar chailleas le caitheamh na scálaí, | 285 | After all the times my fortune was read |
| Béithe balbha is cailleacha cártaí. | 286 | By toothless prognosticators looking ahead |
| Níl cleas dá mb’fhéidir léamh ná trácht air | 287 | There’s not a stroke that can still amaze, |
| Le teacht na ré nó tar éis bheith lán di, | 288 | From the waxing moon to its waning phase |
| Um Inid nó um Shamhain nó ar shiúl na bliana | 289 | From Shrove Tuesday to All Saints Night, |
| Ná tuigim gur leamhas bheith ag súil le ciall as. | 290 | By making sense of my dispiriting plight. |
| Níorbh áil liom codladh go socair aon uair díobh | 291 | I could never sleep peacefully in my bed |
| Gan lán mo stoca de thorthaí faoi mo chluasa, | 292 | Without 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, | 294 | Three canonical hours between each repast; |
| In aghaidh an tsrutha do thumainn mo léine, | 295 | Against the current I’d wash my clothes |
| Ag súil trí mo chodladh le cogar ó mo chéile, | 296 | In the hopes that a bachelor would propose. |
| Is minic do chuaigh mé ag scuabadh an staca, | 297 | Often I would go and sweep out the byre |
| Ingne is gruaig faoin luaith-ghríos d’fhágainn, | 298 | And my nails and hair I would throw in the fire; |
| Chuirinn an tsúiste faoi chúl an ghabhail, | 299 | The flail I’d hide in the gable’s shade |
| Chuirinn an rámhainn go ciúin faoin adhairt chugam, | 300 | By the head of my bed I’d place the spade |
| Chuirinn an choigeal i gcillín na háithe, | 301 | I would put my distaff in the lime kiln |
| Chuirinn mo cheirtlín i dtine aoil Mhic Rághnaill, | 302 | I’d secrete my yarn-ball in Reynolds’ mill |
| Chuirinn an ros ar chorp na sráide | 303 | I’d scatter seed on the crown of the street |
| Chuirinn san tsop chugam tor cabáiste. | 304 | I’d stick a cabbage beneath the sheet. |
| Níl cleas acu siúd dá ndúras láithreach | 305 | From my recital it’s clear I don’t miss a trick |
| Ná hagraíonn cúnamh an deamhain is a bhráthar, | 306 | To see if I could get help from Old Nick |
| Sé fáth mo scéil go léir is a bhrí dhuit | 307 | But the end of my story, the result of my tale |
| Mar táim gan chéile tar éis mo dhíchill, | 308 | In spite of my efforts I’ve still got no male. |
| Fáth mo sheanchais fhada, mo phianchreach, | 309 | And what’s really painful and makes me gasp |
| Táim in achrann dhaingean na mblianta, | 310 | Is how firmly I’m in the calendar’s grasp; |
| Ag tarraing go tréan ar laethanta liatha | 311 | With grey old age rushing towards me undaunted |
| Is eagal liom éag gan éinne dom iarraidh. | 312 | I’m terrified I’ll die alone and unwanted. |
| A Phéarla ó Pharrthas screadaim is glaoim ort, | 313 | Pearl of Paradise, please hear my prayers |
| Éiric m’anama ort, aitim thú is éim ort, | 314 | Have mercy, I beg you, and lighten my cares |
| Seachain ná scaoil mé im shraoill gan aird | 315 | Be sure not to leave me a ne’er-to-be wife |
| Nó im chailleach gan chríoch gan bhrí gan bhláth, | 316 | With a mateless, meaningless, loveless life |
| Gan chara gan chlann gan chom gan chairde | 317 | Without friends or family, a roof o’er my head |
| Ar theallacha draighin gan feidhm gan fáilte. | 318 | Depending on strangers for my daily bread. |
| Dar a fuil uimpi tinte is toirneach! | 319 | By the thunder and the lightning in the sky |
| Dalladh mé suite maoite im óinmhid, | 320 | It proves me a fool, my life gone awry |
| Sealbh gach só ag rogha gach díogha, | 321 | That, in front of my face, Ireland’s biggest bitches |
| Is ag ainnibh na Fóla os comhair mo shúl. | 322 | Are wallowing in wealth and reveling in riches |
| Tá somach ag Saidhbh go saibhir sámhach, | 323 | Saive snared a sucker with silver to spare |
| Muirinn i meidhir is a haghaidh ar a nuachar, | 324 | Muireann makes merry in her lover’s lair |
| Mór is Mairsile i macnas múchta, | 325 | Mór and Mairsile wench wantonly |
| Is mórchuid magaidh orthu ag fachnaoid fúmsa; | 326 | And all of them make a mockery of me |
| Is giodamach sámh í Sláinge, is Síle | 327 | Slaney and Shiela sparkle and glitter |
| Sisile is Áine is ál ina dtimpeall, | 328 | Cecily and Anne each have their litter |
| Tuilleadh mar tá siad de mhná na tíre | 329 | There are others like them throughout the land |
| Is mise mar táim gan tál gan tsíolrach. | 330 | While milkless and childless before you I stand. |
| Is fada gan feidhm is foighne domsa é, | 331 | I’ve been powerless but patient for far too long |
| Lagar dom leá is mo leigheas im chumhachta | 332 | I can overcome my weakness and right this wrong: |
| Maille le luibhne díblí dreoite | 333 | Potions from dried-up herbs I’ll wring |
| Is ortha draíochta chloífeas fós dom | 334 | Over which magic incantations I’ll sing. |
| Buachaill deas nó gas galánta | 335 | That should snare a strapping young chap |
| Bhuaifeas ceart a shearc is a ghrá dhom. | 336 | Whom, in a web of love, I will trap. |
| Do chonnaic mé go leor den tsórt dá dhéanamh | 337 | ’Tis many I have seen who play this game |
| Is chuirfinn i gcóir na cóngar chéanna; | 338 | Watch out! I’m about to do the same |
| Is daingean an cúnamh ag dúbailt daoine | 339 | It’s a great help for coupling, so they allege |
| Greamanna d’úlla is púdar luíbhne, | 340 | To mix crushed apples and powdered veg |
| Magairlín meidhreach, meill na mbuailte, | 341 | The purple orchid is an aphrodisiac |
| Taithigín taibhseach, toill na tuairte, | 342 | With mandrake’s root I will attack |
| Mealladh na minseach, claíomh na mbonsach, | 343 | And other plants that I cannot name |
| An cumainnín buí is an draíocht chun drúise. | 344 | I’ll use with great relish in this ballgame |
| Duilliúr dóite ar nós gur rún é, | 345 | There’s the top secret about leaves that are burned |
| Is tuilleadh den tsórt nach cóir a mhúineadh. | 346 | And other like intrigues that cannot be learned. |
| Do b’iontas mór i dTuamhumhain le chéile | 347 | You know it took all Thomond by surprise |
| An bhruinneall seo thuas ag buachan céile; | 348 | When a certain old nobody caught her prize |
| Is d’inis sí domsa, ar ndóigh, trí rún, | 349 | She told me how—in confidence, indeed— |
| Um Inid is í pósta ó bhord na Samhna | 350 | That from Shrove to Samhain (when to wed he agreed) |
| Nár ibh is nár ól ach an feoithneach fionn | 351 | She had drunk no wine nor ate no bread |
| Is cuillibh na móna dóite ar lionn. | 352 | But lived on a diet of burnt spiders instead. |
| Is fada mé ag foighneamh, faighimse fuascailt, | 353 | So, I’ve long been waiting; I’m changing my fate |
| Seachain ar mhoill mé, saighead chun luais é; | 354 | Don’t try to stop me, when I’m out of the gate. |
| Muna bhfuil leigheas dom threighid i do chuairtse | 355 | If, from your visit, a resolution doesn’t appear |
| Cuirfidh mé faghairt i bhfeidhm má’s crua dom. | 356 | Then it’s on to Plan B and I’m outta here. |