Thursday, May 26, 2005

I think I am just going to post some poetry that I found in Dunaire Finn Part 2 rather than posting about how I see America from here. These are stanzas 56-58 from poem number XLVII.

A ndiaigh na naom go n-aille
cleirigh dhiana diogháire
ag foláir chrábhaidh go beacht
is iad féin nocha ndingneat

Gidh olc na cleirigh gan bhrigh
measa go mor na hairdrigh
gidh olc na righa rabhaigh
measa na maoír hreintaphaigh

Dia labhraid cluig a gceallaibh
gidh ard leighionn gach seanoidh
nocha mó do-cluin Criost cáidh
no sanais isin camáir

After the beauteous saints will com fierce
and violent clerics stricly enjoining piety,
and they themselves will not practice

Though the worthless clerics be bad, worse
far will be the high kings: though bad the
warning (?) kings, worse again the strongly
exacting stewards.

Though (?) bells sound in churches, though
high be the learning of every synod, chaste
Christ hears it no more than an announcment
at daybreak.

posted by Chris  #1:43 PM | 0 comments |