Exhibitions, Historic, News

Lá Fhéile Bríde

Lon-dubh

 

Inniu Lá ‘le Bríde, Lá Bhríd Naofa: pátrún na n-ealaíontóirí.  Inniu ba mhaith liom dán a luadh libh, dán a scríobhadh sa 9ú aois, dán darbh ainm “Lon Dubh Loch Laoi”,  aistrithe ón sean-Ghaeilge ag Nollag Ó Muirille.  Tá an dán seo le feiscint ar mhúrphictiúr iontach i lár sraith de mhúrmháisithe ag an Bhalla Idirnáisiúnta, mar a bheirtear air, ag bun Bhóthar na bhFál i mBéal Feirste.  Mheas mé gur siombal deas de Bhéal Feiriste é an Lon Dubh agus mar sin, chuir mé ceann beag leis an mbailiúchan líníochtaí sa taispeántas sa Chultúrlann.

 

Lon Dubh Loch Lao

An t-éan beag

a lig fead

de rinn ghoib

ghlanbhuí;

 

caitheann (sé) faí

os Loch Laoi

lon de chraobh

charnbhuí.

 

This poem  (Translated below by Ciaran Carson) is thought to have been written by an Irish monk at the great monastery of Bangor, on the shores of Loch Laoi ( Belfast Lough) in the 9th century.  I like the Blackbird as a symbol of Belfast and so I added one to the installation of cardboard drawings at the Chulturlann.

The Blackbird of Belfast Lough

the little bird
that whistled shrill
from the nib of
its yellow bill:

a note let go
o’er Belfast Lough –
a blackbird from
a yellow whin.

more about the exhibition at http://www.emacl.com

and also at http://www.culturlann.ie

 

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2 thoughts on “Lá Fhéile Bríde

  1. Ar chuala tú an dán seo thíos ón bhFiannaíocht riamh?

    Lon Doire An Chairn

    Binn sin, a Loin Doire an Chairn!
    Ní chuala mé in aird sa bhith
    Ceol ba binne ná do cheol
    agus tú fá bhun do nid

    Aoincheol is binne fán mbith
    mairg nach éisteann leis go fóill
    A mhic Calprainn na gclog mbinn
    is go mbéarthá aríst ar do nóin

    Agat, mar tá agam féin
    dá mbeith deimhin scéil an eoin
    Do-ghéantá déara go dian
    ‘s ní bhiadh t’aire ar Dhia go fóill

    I gcrích Lochlann na sreabh ngorm
    fuair mac Cumhaill na gcorn ndearg
    An t-éan do-chíthe-se anois
    ag sin a scéal doit go dearbh

    Doire an Chairn an choill úd thiar
    mar a ndéindís an Fhiann fos
    Ar áille is ar chaoimhe a crann
    is eadh do cuireadh ann an lon

    Sgolghaire luin Doire an Chairn
    búithre an daimh ó Aill na gCaor
    Ceol le gcodladh Fionn go moch
    lachain ó Loch na dTrí gCaol

    Cearca fraoich um Chruachain Chuinn
    feadghail dobhráin Druim Dhá Loch
    Gotha fiulair Ghlinn’ na bhFuath
    longhaire cuach Chnuic na Scoth

    Gotha gadhair Ghleanna Caoin
    is gáir fhiolair chaoich na sealg
    Tairm na gcon ag triall go moch
    isteach ó Thráigh na gCloch nDearg

    An tráth do mhair Fionn ‘s an Fhiann
    dob ansa leo sliabh ná cill
    Ba binn leosan fuighle lon
    gotha na gclog leo níor bhinn

    Blackbird Of Doire An Chairn

    Beautiful, O Blackbird of Doire an Chairn!
    Nowhere on Earth have I heard
    A lovelier music than yours
    there as you guard your nest

    The world’s loveliest song
    a shame you won’t listen a while
    Mac Calprainn of the sweet bells
    You could still fit in your nones

    If you knew, as I know myself
    the real story of that bird
    You would have to cry hard tears
    and forget your God a while

    In a blue-rivered Viking region
    Mac Cumhaill of the burnished goblets
    Found the bird you see before you
    true is the tale I tell

    Doire an Chairn is the wood back there
    where the Fianna took their rest
    So fine and fair its trees
    they set the blackbird there

    Throat-song of the blackbird of Doire an Chairn
    stag’s call from Aill na gCaor
    Where Fionn’s music, sleeping at morn
    and the ducks from Loch na dTrí gCaol

    The grouse at Cruachan, seat of Conn
    otters whistling at Druim Dhá Loch
    Eagle cry in Gleann na bhFuath
    cuckoo’s murmur on Chnuic na Scoth

    Dog’s voices in Ghleanna Caoin
    cry of the half-blind hunting eagle
    Patter of hounds, on their way early
    in from Thráigh na gCloch nDearg

    When Fionn and the Fianna lived
    they loved the hills, not hermit-cells
    Blackbird speech is what they loved
    not the sound, unlovely, of your bells

    Like

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