‘Tis many a day
since I sailed on youth’s bay
year on year has scored my flesh
since my fresh sweet strength went grey.
Many a day
I have been as cold as they;
even in the sun I wear my shawl;
age has put me too away….
A poor old woman, let me be;
the eyes are dark that were so fair;
the glittering ones I slept with pass
and leave me to the dark and prayer….
Happy island of the main,
to you the tide returns again,
but to me it comes no more
over the deserted shore.
Seeing, I can scarcely say
“Here is such a place”; today
what was water far and wide
changes with the ebbing tide.
--From "The Lament of the Old Woman of Beara", anonymous, ca 10th century. Translated by Frank O'Connor (1903-1966), pseudonym of Michael O'Donovan, in A Short History of Irish Literature. The Old Woman of Beara, whom O'Connor calls "the Nun of Beare" and who is also called "the Hag of Beare", is probably an ancient goddess-figure from pre-Celtic Ireland, but the poem can also be interpreted as a Christian allegory.This is the part of the poem in which the old woman denounces her old age. "There is nothing greater in Irish," says O'Connor.
Caillech Bhérri
Is mó láu
nád muir n-oíted imam-ráu;
testa már mblíadnae dom chruth
dáig fo-rroimled mo chétluth.
Is mó dé
damsa in-diu cen buith té;
gaibthi m’étach cid fri gréin
do-fil aes dom aithgin féin….
Am minecán, mon-úar dam,
cach derc cáin is erchraide,
iar feis fri caindlea sorchai
bíthum dorchae derthaige….
Céinmar insi mora máir,
dosn-ic tuile íarna tráig ;
os mé, ní frescu dom-í
tuile tar ési n-aithbi.
Is súaill mo mennat in-diu
ara taibrinnse aithgniu:
an-í ro boí for tuiliu
a-tá uile for aithbiu.
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