“In all its breadth and ceaseless treasure”: the Contemporary Gaelic Poems of Lewis MacKinnon
Posted: November 30, 2011 Filed under: English, Gaelic: Scottish, In all its breadth and ceaseless treasure: Lewis MacKinnon and the contemporary Gaelic poem, Lewis MacKinnon Comments Off on “In all its breadth and ceaseless treasure”: the Contemporary Gaelic Poems of Lewis MacKinnon
Gaelic-language poems by Lewis MacKinnon:
Your Speech
Listening to your speech today;
A bag-of-wind speech,
A speech without ceasing,
A speech without shape,
A speech without feeling,
A speech without essence,
A speech without a path,
A speech as crazy as the birds,
A speech that was not heard,
A speech no one noticed,
A speech bawling out in the cold wind,
A speech alone, forgotten,
A speech misunderstood,
A speech calling out for aid,
A beautiful, meek, melodious, open speech, without blemish;
_____
A’ Chainnt Agad
Ag éisdeachd ris a’ chainnt agad
an diugh;
Cainnt ghuthmhor
Cainnt gun stad
Cainnt gun chruth
Cainnt gun fhaireachdainn
Cainnt gun bhrìgh
Cainnt gun rathad
Cainnt cho gòrach ri eòin nan speuran
Cainnt nach deach a chluinntinn
Cainnt air nach d’ thug neach-eiginn aire
Cainnt ag éibheachd ‘san t-soirbheas fhuar
Cainnt ‘na h-aonar, air a dìochuimhneachadh
Cainnt nach deach a tuigsinn
Cainnt ag gairm oirnn airson cuideachaidh,
Cainnt bhriagha, mhacanta, bhinn, fhosgarra, gun smal
____
Institutional Thoughts
Through the looking glass of faith
and the remains of empires,
and the institutions built by these,
a person arrives at this place in time and being;
Where the creed of his belief and the learning of colonizers
influences his every deed;
Even when he is sitting in some meeting or other
and struggling in his mind against ideas and words;
That someone else is putting forward;
Struggling for no real cause whatsoever;
But the fear of the loss of control;
That lurks under the surface of the legacy,
those institutions left from long ago;
_____
Smuaintean Air Stéidhichidhean
Troimh ghloine-seallaidh a’ chreideimh agus
fuigheall nan Ìmpireachdan,
is na stéidhichidhean a chaidh a thogail leotha,
ruigidh duin’ an t-àite seo ann an àm agus bith;
Far an toir creud a’ chreideis aig’ agus ionnsachadh
a’ luchd-ionnsaidh buaidh do gach
gnìomh a nì e;
Fìu ‘s nuair a tha e ‘na shuidhe ann an coinneimh air
choireigin
a’ dèanadh strì ‘na inntinn an aghaidh bheachdan is fhaclan;
A tha cuideigin eile a’ cur air adhart;
A’ dèanadh strì gun fhìor adhbhar sam bith;
Ach eagal call a’ smachd a tha fo uachdar na dìleib,
a dh’ fhàg na stéidhichidhean seo bho chionn fhada;
_____
Facebook and Gaelic
Writing in an unknown language,
old, shaky, alone,
in order that people will have a mere knowledge of it;
I write in this loneliness,
and I often suppose that there isn’t one person
on the surface of the earth,
that is in the same situation as me;
But I paused and I thought about the whole thing;
And then, it struck me
that Facebook
is kind of like Gaelic;
And I decided
that I would offer
Facebook the Gaelic language,
to be a friend to it,
in all its breadth
and ceaseless treasure;
And instead of being afraid
of an intrusion in its personal life
I welcome
any and all scrutinizing
that can be done of it
And I’ll provide Facebook
its date of birth,
its religious persuasion,
its sexual orientation,
its life history,
its stories,
its music,
its customs,
its expressions,
its hobbies,
its hopes,
its fears,
its musical interests,
where it was raised,
and what it is up to at this very moment
_____
Làrach Nan Ceanglaichean Agus A’ Ghàidhlig
A’ sgrìobhadh ann an cànain neo-aithnichte
sean, cugallach, aonaranach,
airson ‘s gum bi beagan eòlais aig daoin’ oirre
Is mar a sgrìobhas mi ‘san aonaranachas seo
gu tric saoilidh mi nach eil aon duin’ eile
air uachdar an t-saoghail
‘san aon suidheachadh ‘s a tha mise
Ach stad mi is smaointich mi
air a’ ghnothach
Is a’ sin, bhuail orm
gu bheil Làrach nan Ceanglaichean
car coltach ris a’ Ghàidhlig;
Agus chuir mi romham
gun tairginn-sa do Làrach nan Ceanglaichean
a’ Ghàidhlig,
a bhith ‘na caraid dhi,
‘na farsaingeachd air fad
‘na stóras gun chrìch
Agus an àite a bhith fo eagal
air foirneachd a beatha phearsanta
cuiridh mi fàilte air
sgrùdadh sam bith a théid a dhèanadh oirre
Agus bheir mi
ceann-là a breith,
a creideamh gneitheach,
a gné,
eachdraidh a beatha,
a sgeulachdan,
a h-òrain,
a ceòl,
a cleachdaidhean,
a gnàthsan-chainnt,
na cur-seachadan aice,
a dòchasan,
a h-eagail,
a sùim ciùil,
far an deach a togail,
is gu dé tha i ris an dràsda-fhéin
_____
A Fart
Now drawing the last gasp
and dying;
Free, unfettered, finally;
From the beliefs of people
who think that you died,
long ago;
But surprisingly,
you are still kicking in the hidden coffin,
with very little of your ancient little-known breath remaining;
And similar to a fart that is made someplace,
that is too confining,
and the smell wafts about choking everyone that is there,
and making them uncomfortable with shame,
You keep unexpectedly appearing;
And there are still those,
that are going around,
with their hands
tightly gripped on their noses;
Afraid of these little wiffs
that disperse;
You know that attitude you get
and how it’s shouted out, “Who did that anyway?”
And despite an immeasurable lack of attention,
you continue to fall out,
just like that fart,
that comes without welcome, without warning
_____
Braoim
A-nist a’ tarraing na h-uspaig mu dheireadh
is ag eugachdainn;
Saor, gun bhannan mu dheireadh thall;
O bheachdan dhaoine
a tha ‘smaoineachadh gun do dh’ eug thu,
o chionn iomadach bliadhna;
Ach gu h-iongantach,
tha thu fhathast air crith ‘sa’ chistidh fhalaichte seo,
le glé bheag dhen anail aosda neo-aithnicht’ agad air fhàgail,
Is mar bhraoim a chaidh a dhèanadh an àiteigin
a bha tuilleadh ‘s seasgair,
is a’ fàileadh a’ flodradh mun cuairt
a’ tachdadh a h-uile duin’ ann,
is ‘gan dèanadh mì-chomhfhurtail,
fo nàire;
Tha thu an còmhnaidh gun fhios a’ nochdadh;
Agus tha feadhainn ann,
a tha ‘dol air adhart fhathast,
leis na làmhan aca,
le fìor ghréim air an sròin;
Fo eagal nan oiteagan beaga seo,
a théid an sgapadh;
Fhios agad a’ freagairt a gheobh thu,
“Có rinn sin co-dhiubh?”
Agus a dh’ aindeoin cion-aire gun mheud,
théid agad air tuiteam a-mach,
dìreach mar a thuiteas am braoim ud,
a thig gun fhàilte, gun rabhadh
_____
Limited Pieces
I would like to meet with you again
one day,
where there is nothing between us,
but the awareness of one another;
Far away from the field of memory,
where there aren’t,
Memories
Experiences
Beliefs
Judgements
Pre-meditations
Or feelings
And there we can meet again
Since I would like to give, the pieces of you,
that do not completely constitute any of those above,
that I have been keeping so close to me,
for so long,
back to you
_____
Criomagan Beaga
Bu mhath leam coinneachadh riut
là air choireigin,
far nach eil sion sam bith ann eadarainn,
ach an t-eòlas air ré an duin’ eile;
Fad air falbh o’ phàirc a’ chuimhne
far nach eil
Cuimhnichean
Féin-fhiosrachaidhean
Creideamhan
Breitheanais
Beachdan a bh’ ann roimhe
No faireachdainnean
Is a’ sin faodaidh sinn coinneachadh a-rithist
A chionn ‘s bu mhath leam na criomagan dhìot
nach dèan suas gu h-iomlan gin dhen fheadhainn gu h-àrd,
a tha mi ‘gléidheadh cho dlùth dhomh,
fad an t-saoghail,
a thoirt air ais dhut
_____
Innards
I dug you out from the shape of your human body
And I looked at you sincerely;
To see if I could find
Out what was bothering you;
You, lamenting the deeds that you committed
And all your passions
With the hope that you would have another chance
To go back
And put things right;
In order to get some relief
You permitted me to search your insides;
You never uttered a word
When I went in
At ease, peaceful
Somehow content
That you were finally
Getting some attention
For the painful burden you
Were carrying;
And in I went
And I started
And God all mighty If I am not still there
Lost in your complexity;
Mionach
Chladhaich mi thu a-mach á cruth daonna na bothaig agad
Agus choimhead mi ort gu fìrinneach
Fiach a gheobhainn a-mach
Gu dé bha ‘cur ort
Thusa ‘caoineadh nan gnìomhan a rinn thu
Is na mianntan uile agad
Leis an dòchas gum biodh seans’ eile agad
A dhol air ais
A chur rudan ceart
Gus faothachadh ‘fhaighinn
Leig thu dhomh lorg ‘nad bhroinn
Cha d’ thuirt thu guth
Nuair a chaidh mi a-staigh
Socair, ciùin,
Is leig thu dhomh do mhionach a bhuntainn
Dòigh air choireiginn
Toilichte
Gu robh thu mu dheireadh thall
A’ faighinn air’ air an uallach phianail
A bha thu air giùlain
Chaidh mi a-staigh
Is thòisich mi
Is a Dhia nan gràsan nach eil mi fhathast ann
Air chall ‘san iom-fhillteachd agad
_____*_____*_____
Lewis MacKinnon (Lodaidh Macfhionghain) was born in 1970
in Inverness, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, Canada.
Son of a Gaelic-speaking father and a French-Acadian mother, he is
an accomplished singer/songwriter as well as a poet.
His poems featured here were composed in Gaelic – using Nova Scotian
Gaelic’s spelling and punctuation, not Scottish Gaelic’s – then translated /
interpreted into English by the author himself.
Two of the poems, “Limited Pieces” and “Innards”, are exquisite in their
subtle intensity and candour – among the best love poems by any
Canadian poet.
MacKinnon’s 2008 book of poems, Giant and other Gaelic Poems /
Famhair agus dàin Ghàidhlig eile, includes 89 poems in Gaelic
with English versions.