Is mairg nár chrean le maitheas saoghalta
do cheangal ar gad sul ndeacha in éagantacht,
’s an ainnise im theach ó las an chéadluisne
nach meastar gur fhan an dadamh céille agam.
An tamall im ghlaic do mhair an ghléphingin,
ba geanamhail gart dar leat mo thréithe-se -
do labhrainn Laidean ghasta is Béarla glic
’s do tharrainginn dais ba cleas ar chléireachaibh.
Do bheannachadh dhamh an bhean ’s a céile cnis,
an bhanaltra mhaith ’s a mac ar céadlongadh;
dá ngairminn baile is leath a ngréithe-sean,
ba deacair ’na measc go mbainfeadh éara dhom.
Do ghabhainn isteach ’s amach gan éad i dtigh
is níor aistear uim aitreabh teacht aréir ’s aniogh;
dob aitheasc a searc fá seach le chéile againn
‘Achainghim, ceadaigh blaiseadh ár béile-ne’.
D’athraigh ’na ndearcaibh dath mo néimhe anois
ar aiste nach aithnidh ceart im chéimeannaibh;
ó shearg mo lacht le hais na caomhdhroinge,
d’aithle mo cheana is marcach mé dem chois.
Is annamh an tansa neach dom éileamhsa
is dá n-agrainn fear ba falamh a éiricsin;
ní fhaiceann mo thaise an chara chéibheann chlis
dar gheallamhain seal ‘Is leat a bhféadaimse’.
Gé fada le sail mo sheasamh tréithchuisleach
ó mhaidin go feascar seasc gan bhéilfhliuchadh,
dá dtairginn banna sleamhain séalaithe
ar chnagaire leanna, a casc ní bhéarainn sin |
Woe to that man who leaves on his vagaries
without busying himself tying up some worldly goods.
There is misery in my house from the first dawn-light,
and no-one believes I’ve got one tatter of sense.
For as long as the shining penny was in my fist
my ways were charming and cheerful, you would think.
My speech was fluent Latin and cunning English!
I could describe a flourish to dazzle the scribes!
Wives and the mates of their flesh saluted me
and mothers and their boys before their breakfast.
If I were to ask for a village, with half its contents,
I’d find it hard to get a refusal among them.
I could enter and leave a house, and no complaint;
turn up at the same house night and day – it was nothing.
Jointly and several, the burthen of their love
was: ‘Deign, I implore you, to take a taste of our meal!’
But I’ve taken a different colour now in their eyes,
so that they see no right in my procedures.
To judge by this gentry now, my milk has turned
and after my time of respect I must ride on foot.
It is seldom anyone seeks my services,
while if I press them on people the pay is poor.
I find no more that cunning and sweet companion
who promised me once: ‘All I can do, it is yours.’
I could stand at the counter long and wearily
from morn till night – arid, with unwet lips –
and not if I offered a surety sealed and shining
for a naggin of beer, could I lure it out of the cask. |
