stepped down on my foot accidentally. Yes, the one that is broken now. It's possible it fractured then; I never went to see about it because I didn't have any insurance at the time. We think that the bones were weak and then between my weight and standing at the cash register, they broke again.
So it's kind of funny that when I've been thinking of him (and not in the kindest of ways), Bill sent me the Irish version of a song I've only heard in English, but love: 'I am Stretched on Your Grave'. He's apparently doing well and his wife and he are moving to Massachusetts soon as part of an effort to eventually head to Maine or Nova Scotia. I wish them well. In the meantime, here are the words, primarily for my benefit, although I'll have to go back and review how the devil they're pronounced and what them mean. He posted them on a blog entry for his blog, Ríocht na nGael. (It's all gibberish if you don't read Irish, by the way, although I found an excellent translator online at Irish Dictionary Online). Irish has so many mutations it's hard to program online dictionaries that can recognise the various changes. But I'm glad I found it because the only thing I really recognised in his post were the words 'agus' ('and') and Eilís (my name). I am beyond rusty. I'll follow the Irish with an English version of the song.
Cé Sin ar mo Thuama?
Ise
Cé sin ar mo thuama
nó an buachaill den tír tú?
Eisean
Dá mbeadh barr do dhá lámh agam
ní scarfainn leat choíche.
Ise
A áilleáin agus a ansacht,
ní ham duitse luí liom–
tá boladh fuar na cré orm
dath na gréine is na gaoithe.
Eisean
Tá an clog ar mo chroí istigh,
atá líonta le gra duit,
lionndubh taobh thíos duit,
chomh ciardhubh le hairne.
Ise
Má bhaineann aon ní duit
is go gcloífeadh an bás tú,
beadsa im shí gaoithe
romhat thíos ar na bánta.
Eisean
Nuair is dóigh le mo mhuintir
go mbímse ar mo leaba,
ar do thuama a bhím sínte
ó oíche go maidin,
ag cur síos mo chrutain
is ag crua-ghol go daingean,
trí mo chailín ciúin stuama
do luadh liom ‘na leanbh.
Ise
An cuimhin leat an oíche úd
a bhíos-sa agus tusa
ag bun na chrainn droighnigh
is an oíche ag cur cuisne?
Céad moladh le hÍosa
nach ndearnamar na milleadh
is go bhfuil mo choróin mhaighdeanais
na crann soilse os mo choinne
Eisean
Tá na sagairt is na bráithe
gach lá liom i bhfearg
de chionn a bheith i ngrá leat,
a Mháire, is tú marbh.
Dheanfainn foscadh ar an ngaoith duit
is díon duit ón bhfearrthainn,
agus cumha géar mo chroí-se
tú a bheith thíos is an talamh.
Tabhair do mhallacht dod mháithrín
is áirighse t’athair,
is a maireann ded ghaolta
go léireach ‘na seasamh,
nár lig dom tú a phósadh
is tú beo agam id bheatha
is ná hiarrainn mar spré leat
ach mo léintín a ghealadh.
'I am Stretched on Your Grave' (as I learnt it)
I am stretched on your grave
And will lie there forever
If your hands were in mine
I'd be sure they'd not sever
My apple tree, my brightness
It's time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather
When my family think
That I'm safe in my bed
From night until morning
I am stretched at your head
Calling out to the air
With tears hot and wild
As I grieve for the girl
That I loved as a child
Do you remember the night we were lost
In the shade of the blackthorn
And the chill of the frost
And thanks be to Jesus
We did all that was right
And your maidenhead still
Is your pillar of light
Oh, the priests and the friars
Approach me in dread
Because I love still love you
My life and you're dead
I still would be your shelter
Through rain and through storm
And with you in your cold grave
I cannot sleep warm
So I am stretched on your grave
And will lie there forever
If your hands were in mine
I'd be sure they'd notsever
My apple tree, my brightness
It's time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather
Here's a version different from what I've posted before, Paul Knight of "Four for Naught" performing at the Into the Bean coffee shop in Mesa, Arizona on 8/15/2007, playing a bodhrán (Irish drum).
Today's radioplay: 'The Murder at the Casbah'
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