Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Elvish poetry

agus uaireanta pléascann fuinneoga
titeann fallaí fásann neascóidí gránn
ar bharr do choicín briseann
hamburguraí amach ar na leapacha
chíonn tú cuacha beaga ag faire ort ón
seomra thíos ní féidir leat aon focain
rud fírinneach a rá teitheann do
chairde cacann pangur bán i lár an tí
Michael Davitt
and sometimes windows explode walls
collapse ugly boils erupt on the tip of
your nose hamburgers break out all over
the bedclothes you see small cuckoos
watching you from the room below
you're unable to say one fucking true
thing your friends disappear the monk's
cat shits on the parlour floor
(trans. Philip Casey)

3 comment(s):

Rosie said...

i like that it's too big and in bold and jumbled together, off both centre and kilter. it suits the mood.

Andrew said...

I suppose you're right, i just wanted it the way it's laid out in the book. the bigger, bolder writing was my choice though, it's only the spacing that is entirely fucked up.

Anonymous said...

I'm a great believer in leaving things the way they come out Andrew. Call it your interpretation.