Cuimhne
by Ailbhe Ní Ghearbhuigh
An Gairdín Cuimhneacháin 2016
Fiú is iad i riocht eala,
fágadh a dteanga acu:
cumas urlabhra,
a gcuid amhrán.
Níor chlis ar a gcuimhne.
300 bliain de dheorantacht fhliuch,
300 bliain idir dhá ríocht,
300 bliain de dhaoirse sáile.
Tháinig is d’imigh
glúnta na haislinge,
ealaíontóirí, filí,
lucht píce is airm,
iad uile ag iompar na bhfód.
Maidir linne, glúin na saoirse,
tá uisce trínár dteanga,
tá giotaí dár n-amhrán dearmadtha
ach maireann cleití na cuimhne fós;
san áit íogair, tá ball breac.
Memory
Even in swan-form
their tongues remained human:
their ability to speak,
their song-store.
Their memory sustained.
300 years of sodden contortion,
300 years between two kingdoms,
300 years of saltwater captivity.
They came, they went,
the generations of dreamers
the poets, the makers
the pikemen and snipers
all now bearing the sod.
As for us, the generation of freedom,
with our watered-down language,
our songs only half-way recalled,
a few feathers of memory survive
in that tender place, a mottled patch.
The poem was inspired by Oisín Kelly’s statue of the Children of Lir.
Cover image: Garden of Remembrance (Dublin) REF-102990 by infomatique (Creative Commons)
