An T Earrach Thiar
Poem
Fear ag glanadh cré
De ghimseán spáide
Sa gciúnas shéimh
I mbrothall lae:
Binn am fhuaim
San Earrach thiar.
Fear ag caith eamh
Cliabh dhá dhroim,
Is an fheamainn dhearg
Ag lonrú
I dtaitneamh gréine
Ar dhuirling bháin.
Niamhrach an radharc
San Earrach thiar.
Mná i locháin
In íochtar diaidh-thrá,
A gcótaí craptha,
Scáilí thíos fúthu:
Támh-radharc síothach
San Earrach thiar.
Toll-bhuillí fanna
Ag maidí rámha
Currach lán éisc
Ag teacht chun cladaigh
Ar ór-mhuir mhall
I ndeireadh lae;
San Earrach thiar.
Translation
The Western Spring
A man cleaning clay
From the back of a spade
In the gentle quiet
Of a sultry day:
Sweet is the sound
In the Western spring.
A man tossing down
A creel from his back
And the red seaweed
Gleams in the sun
On the white shingle
Glorious the sight
In the Western spring.
Women stand in the little pools
At low ebb tide
With skirts tucked up
Casting long shadows
On the peaceful scene
In the Western Spring.
Gentle lapping of oars
As a currach full of fish
Comes towards the shore
On a calm golden sea
At eventide
In the Western Spring.
Summary
In this poem, the poet gives us a list of images based on the eye and the ear that amount to the Western Spring for him.
The first image is one of sound – the sound a man makes as he scrapes the earth off his spade while sowing potatoes in his little Aran field.
The second is visual – a man casting a creel off his back on a white rocky shore, the red seaweed glistening in the sun.
The third is also visual – a group of island women knee-deep in salt-pools at low tide, shadows reflected beneath them.
The last image is based on both aural and visual – a currach laden down with fish coming ashore on a golden, steady sea, the hollow muffled sound of oars; a sign that the day’s work (and that of this poem) is done.
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