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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