Sunday, 28 December 2014

Cuid de scéal Midas aistrithe go Gaeilge




Eisean, le scannal an ghnímh,
Filleann turban timpeall a chinn,
Ceileann ón bpobal mór, is eagal leis
A chluasa ollmhóra, an domhan mór d’fheiscin’

Ba eol do bharbóirsclábha, gruaig a mháistir a ghearradh
Sé, an rún mór féin, nuair a chuaigh an ghruaig i bhfaide
Agus, cé go mífhoighneach, ní scaoileadh é


Ar deireadh san áit phríobháideach
Poll do thocail, is dúirt leis an talamh é
De chogar beag, do sceith an scéal
Is chlúdaigh le hithir, faoi thost d’fhag ann é.

Théis tamaill, ó fhialí beaga tagann Fómhar deas,
Ó chlais an rúin, a d’ardaigh suas,
A ardaíonn le caitheamh na bliana aibí
Is tagann bainteoir, is a chúram gan torthaí
Mar ansin, is na lanna is an ghaoth shioscarnach
A chuirfidh le chéile leis an mór-rún a chur amach

He, to conceal the scandal of the deed, 
A purple turban folds about his head, 
Veils the reproach from public view, and fears 
The laughing world would spy his monstrous ears. 
One trusty barber-slave, that used to dress 
His master's hair, when lengthen'd to excess, 
The mighty secret knew, but knew alone, 
And, though impatient, durst not make it known. 

Restless, at last a private place be found, 
Then dug a hole, and told it to the ground; 
In a low whisper he reveal'd the case, 
And cover'd in the earth, and silent left the place, 

In time, of trembling reeds a plenteous crop 
From the confided furrow sprouted up, 
Which, high advancing with the ripening year, 
Made known the tiller, and his fruitless care; 
For then the rustling blades and whispering wind 
To tell the important secret both combined

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