Gan do Chuid Éadaigh -- Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill
Kate
from _Pharaoh's Daughter_
(c) The Gallery Press, 1990
Gan do Chuid Éadaigh
Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill
Is fearr liom tú
gan do chuid éadaigh ort --
do léine shíoda
is do charabhat
do scáth fearthainne faoi t'ascaill
is do chulaith
trí phíosa faiseanta
le barr feabhais táilliúrachta
do bhróga ar a mbíonn
i gcónaí snas,
do lámhainni craiceann eilite
ar do bhois
do hata crombie
feircthear fhaobhar na cluaise --
ní chuireann siad aon ruainne
le do thuairisc,
mar thíos fúthu
i ngan fhios don slua
tá corp gan mhaisle, mháchail
nó míbhua
lúfaireacht ainmhí allta
cat mór a bhíonn amuigh
san oích
is a fhágann sceimhle ina mharbhshruth.
Do ghuailne leathan fairsing
is do thaobh
chomh slim le sneachta séidte
ar an sliabh;
do dhrom, do bhásta singil
is i do ghabhal
an rúta
go bhfuil barr pléisiúrtha ann.
Do chraiceann atá chomh dorcha
is slim
le síoda go mbeach tiús veilbhite
ina shníomh
is é ar chumhracht airgid luachra
nó meadhg na habhann
go ndeirtear faoi
go bhfuil suathadh fear is ban ann.
Mar sin is dá bhrí sin
is tú ag rince liom anocht
cé go mb'fhearr liom tú
gan do chuid éadaigh ort,
b'fhéidir nárbh aon díbháil duit
gléasadh anois ar an dtoirt
in ionad leath ban Éireann
a mhilleadh is a lot.
Nude
(trans. Paul Muldoon)
The long and short
of it is I'd far rather see you nude --
your silk shirt
and natty
tie, the brolly under your oxter
in case of a rainy day,
the three-piece seersucker
suit that's so incredibly trendy,
your snazzy loafers
and, la-di-da,
a pair of gloves
made from the skin of a doe
then, to top it all, a crombie hat
set at a rak-
ish angle -- none of these add
up to more than the icing on a cake
For, unbeknownst to the rest
of the world, behind the outward
show lies a body unsurpassed
for beauty, without so much as a wart
or blemish, but the brill-
iant slink of a wild animal, a dream-
cat, say, on the prowl,
leaving murder and mayhem
in its wake. Your broad, sinewy
shoulders and your flank
smooth as the snow
on a snow-bank.
Your back, your slender waist,
and, of course,
the root that is that very seat
of pleasures, the pleasure-source.
Your skin so dark, my beloved,
and soft
as silk with a hint of velvet
in its weft,
smelling as it does of meadowsweet
or 'watermead'
that has the power, or so it's said,
to drive men and women mad.
For that reason alone, if for no other,
when you come with me to the dance tonight
(though, as you know, I'd much prefer
to see you nude)
it would probably be best
for you to pull on your pants and vest
rather than send
half the women of Ireland totally round the bend.
--
Researchers have discovered that chocolate produces some of the same reactions
in the brain as marijuana.... The researchers also discovered other similarities
between the two, but can't remember what they are.
--Matt Lauer on the Today show http://www.celticweb.com/users/noracharles
jake
<norac...@takemeaway.celticweb.com> wrote:
>Typos are mine, not Nuala's...
>Your skin so dark, my beloved,
>and soft
>as silk with a hint of velvet
>in its weft,
>
>smelling as it does of meadowsweet
>or 'watermead'
>that has the power, or so it's said,
>to drive men and women mad.
A shame to snip (but I did) as this has been one of my favourites,
too, Kate. :)
The above portion just underscores the scent of humans for each other
... while *soap* is a good thing -- perfumes are really not necessary.
that woman has soul.
--jake
MMcC
Soap may have it's benefits but I'm not fully convinced. What could be
more phermonic that a big sweaty culchie, reeking of various types of
animal shit, spilt guinness and smoke? Now take said same culchie and lob
him right in the middle of Texas in the summer time and add to the mixture
about fourteen gallons of shweat drenching every inch of his manly frame
and you have veritable human powder keg. I do, however, in deference to
the females of the local populace, leave my shirt on..... not being a
friend of anarchy. I pondered removing said shirt tonight as I jumped
around like the divil himself, but the ensuing riot may have severely
curtailed our chances of playing in that club again. Rock and Roll is evil
enough as it is. And I do genuinely worry about the salvation of
others.... I being a lost cause of course, having traded my soul for a
fiddle a long time ago.
I usually start sweating around April and stop in time for Christmass. I
believe the concept of the shower to be redundant where I presently live.
Ask Tony if you don't believe a Euro-Commie like me.
BTW, I couldn't imagine a world without Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill......... it
would be one sorry fuckin' place.
A couple of other things no person should have to live without.... Pablo
Neruda, Hurling, Chorizo and egg breakfast tacos, Martin Hayes, long
sweaty bouts of lovemaking and Horses.
> --jake
MMcC
jake
wrote:
>In article <3783ee46....@news.erols.com>, jjsh...@erols.com (jake) wrote:
>
>> On 7 Jul 1999 15:56:19 -0700, Kate
>> <norac...@takemeaway.celticweb.com> wrote:
>>
>> >Typos are mine, not Nuala's...
>>
>> >Your skin so dark, my beloved,
>> >and soft
>> >as silk with a hint of velvet
>> >in its weft,
>> >
>> >smelling as it does of meadowsweet
>> >or 'watermead'
>> >that has the power, or so it's said,
>> >to drive men and women mad.
>>
>> A shame to snip (but I did) as this has been one of my favourites,
>> too, Kate. :)
>>
>> The above portion just underscores the scent of humans for each other
>> ... while *soap* is a good thing -- perfumes are really not necessary.
>> that woman has soul.
>>
>
>Soap may have it's benefits but I'm not fully convinced. What could be
>more phermonic that a big sweaty culchie, reeking of various types of
>animal shit, spilt guinness and smoke? Now take said same culchie and lob
>him right in the middle of Texas in the summer time and add to the mixture
>about fourteen gallons of shweat drenching every inch of his manly frame
>and you have veritable human powder keg.
My, you can paint a captivating picture.
>I do, however, in deference to
>the females of the local populace, leave my shirt on..... not being a
>friend of anarchy. I pondered removing said shirt tonight as I jumped
>around like the divil himself, but the ensuing riot may have severely
>curtailed our chances of playing in that club again. Rock and Roll is evil
>enough as it is. And I do genuinely worry about the salvation of
>others.... I being a lost cause of course, having traded my soul for a
>fiddle a long time ago.
"Im the best that's eva bean...." Didn't know you played the fiddle,
McC -- sorry if I missed the mention. What band? What's your
circuit?
>I usually start sweating around April and stop in time for Christmass. I
>believe the concept of the shower to be redundant where I presently live.
>Ask Tony if you don't believe a Euro-Commie like me.
Fiddle sweat is the best. :)
>BTW, I couldn't imagine a world without Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill......... it
>would be one sorry fuckin' place.
>A couple of other things no person should have to live without.... Pablo
>Neruda, Hurling, Chorizo and egg breakfast tacos, Martin Hayes, long
>sweaty bouts of lovemaking and Horses.
I do hope you leave the horses *out* of the love-making scenario,
however. they'd mess things up a bit, unless of course you were
riding them at the time....
jake
ACooper213
>I being a lost cause of course, having traded my soul for a
>fiddle a long time ago.
I bought a CD from a group from Texas that played here. "The Ale is Dear" by
Clandestine. Gregory McQueen plays fiddle on that. Amazing, trad coming from
Houston.
Tony
Hockersmith
> ( MMcC) wrote:
> >A couple of other things no person should have to live without.... Pablo
> >Neruda, Hurling, Chorizo and egg breakfast tacos, Martin Hayes, long
> >sweaty bouts of lovemaking and Horses.
>
> I do hope you leave the horses *out* of the love-making scenario,
> however. they'd mess things up a bit, unless of course you were
> riding them at the time....
> jake
I just don't know about you two...... :)
KateH
Hockersmith
news:37872ec8...@news.indigo.ie...
> On Thu, 08 Jul 1999 00:20:34 GMT, jjsh...@erols.com (jake) wrote:
> snip.......
> >The above portion just underscores the scent of humans for each other
> >... while *soap* is a good thing -- perfumes are really not necessary.
> >that woman has soul.
>
> BUCKET!!!!!!!!!!!!
> Eddie
Because of scent...or sentiment?
KateH
december
Hockersmith <hock...@internetnw.net> wrote in message
news:93154862...@news.remarQ.com...
"Visit the bodyshop in Cologne or try a strange routine all on your own -
love bruises"
K. E. Dennis
>> On 7 Jul 1999 15:56:19 -0700, Kate <norac...@takemeaway.celticweb.com> wrote:
[snipped most of _Gan do Chuid Éadaigh _]
>
>> >smelling as it does of meadowsweet
>> >or 'watermead'
>> >that has the power, or so it's said,
>> >to drive men and women mad.
>>
>A shame to snip (but I did) as this has been one of my favourites,
>too, Kate. :)
A very belated thank you, Kate - not alone because it's manna in the wilderness
among all this agitah, but because it's another wonderfully sensuous poem from She
Who Has No Equal…
BTW, Is Fr. Dermody w/ us these days? Can we expect another jeremiad? <she asks
hopefully>
[snipped]
> What could be
>more phermonic that a big sweaty culchie, reeking of various types of
>animal shit, spilt guinness and smoke? Now take said same culchie and lob
>him right in the middle of Texas in the summer time and add to the mixture
>about fourteen gallons of shweat drenching every inch of his manly frame
>and you have veritable human powder keg. I do, however, in deference to
>the females of the local populace, leave my shirt on..... not being a
>friend of anarchy. I pondered removing said shirt tonight as I jumped
>around like the divil himself, but the ensuing riot may have severely
>curtailed our chances of playing in that club again. Rock and Roll is evil
>enough as it is. And I do genuinely worry about the salvation of
>others.... I being a lost cause of course, having traded my soul for a
>fiddle a long time ago.
Michael, a chara, if I should *ever * be mad enough to take a trip to TX (as opposed
to stopping over for 2 hrs in an airport, as I once so memorably did) - or you mad
enough to come up to the evil environs of NYC - the first round is mine.
This was, if you will excuse the expression, like a breath of fresh air
(culchie-scented or not).
BTW, as Minister of Science & Demonology, I may be able to negotiate a better deal
for you on the fiddle/soul exchange. I have connections <& some mighty persuasive
familiars>.
>BTW, I couldn't imagine a world without Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill......... it
>would be one sorry fuckin' place.
It would indeed.
>A couple of other things no person should have to live without.... Pablo
>Neruda,
Right - make that 2 rounds.
>Hurling,
Of course! <mentally tots up the 3rd pint to her own tab>
Chorizo and egg breakfast tacos,
Well…. I don't know… I don't eat meat. This round might be on you.
>Martin Hayes,
4th round is mine again….
Many yrs back, I heard him perform - in a wee room in Tullamore, where he'd stopped,
for unknown reasons, en route to somewhere else <trying not to look smug @ the good
fortune thrown her way by the fickle gods of music>.
>long
>sweaty bouts of lovemaking
Amen to that, brother!
> and Horses.
I tell you what, Michael - to hell w/ round 6 or whatever it is by now. Ride your
horse on up here, & I will introduce you to every eligible & attractive woman I can
locate.
Not, mind you, that you'll need an introduction: I'll just post the above on a few
telephone poles, & they'll beat a path to your door. Even if it * is * in the midst
of the desert.
respectfully submitted, w/ appreciation (& a very undignified giggle),
|K.E. Dennis den...@mail.montclair.edu
|My employer is not responsible for my opinions,
|regardless of how sensible they are.