Scroll down to read the English version. Is rí-annamh a fheicim an rí-iascaire (an Kingfisher) ach bhí an t-ádh liom inné agus mé amuigh ar shiúlóidín i mBushy Park, i dTír an Iúir.
Nach iontach an t-éan é – lena chuid cleití gleoite gealgháireacha – mheasfá gur chóir go mbeadh cónaí air sna Trópaicí, nó i nGáirdín na nAinmhithe b’fhéidir, mar chonaic mé go h-éasca é, a cholainn lonrach ag glioscarnach i measc na craobhacha loma gheimhriúla.
Bhí a chleití ar ghorm na spéire, agus bhí dath rua nó oráiste ar a ucht. D’eitil sé leis ansin agus ní fhaca mé aríst é ach d’fhan an t-aisling liom agus mé ag triall ar bhaile.
Yes, I saw a Kingfisher the other day, a fleeting glimpse of that ethereal bird. Bright sky-blue feathers standing out against the bare grey branches of Bushy Park. How is it that such an exotic creature has made his home by this little woodland pond in Dublin? Was it a heavenly blunder? Or was he created on some crazy whim, to bring joy to this wintery world? – I can think of no other explanation. Can you?
I did that painting of a kingfisher a long time ago for a book by O’Brien Printing – I wonder is it still in print… But I’m thinking these days, that with all the trouble in the world, and climate change in particular, maybe it’s time to revisit that subject and see where it takes me.
I’m reminded of the old mandarin in China who, when he disagreed with the emperor, he took to sitting by the banks of the Yangtze to spend his day fishing. A quiet and dignified protest.
Your comments are always welcome.