SOME POEMS FROM IRELAND FOR GOOD FRIDAY
A Rí na hAoine
A Rí na hAoinedo shín do ghéaga ar an gcrois,
A Thiarna, ó dfhulaing tú na mílte ‘s na céadta loit,
Sínimid síos faoin dhídean do scéithe anocht;
Go scara tú orainn toradh an chrainn ar ar do chéasadh do Chorp
( Traditional Irish)
O KING of FRIDAY
O King of Friday who lay spread-eagled on the cross
O Lord who suffered uncountable wounds
We lay ourselves under your protection today/tonight;
May you let us share in the fruits of the tree of your Passion.
I SEE HIS BLOOD UPON THE ROSE
I see his blood upon the rose
And in the stars the glory of his eyes,
His body gleams amid eternal snows,
His tears fall from the skies.
I see his face in every flower;
The thunder and the singing of the birds
Are but his voice-and carven by his power
Rocks are his written words.
All pathways by his feet are worn,
His strong heart stirs the ever beating sea,
His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,
His cross is every tree.
(by Joseph Mary Plunkett)
CRANN OÍCHE SHEACA.
Géag Uaigneach gach crann
Scartha leis an uile,
Íbirtchrot gach crann anocht
I bhfianise na cruinne
Ís é a dhínit a loime.
Samhail a bheirim do gach crann
Páischrann an chéasta,
Fior ar gach crann a chím,
Tréighthe ag an duine.
( le Máirtín Ó Direáin)
TREES ON A FROSTY NIGHT
Bare-branched each tree
Cut off from the universe,
Each tree like a victim tonight,
The round world in witness,
It’s nakedness is its exaltation.
I imagine each tree
Is the passion-tree of the crucifixion,
I see a figure on each tree,
Spread-eagled and pierced in the side,
Abandoned by man.