On February, 19th, 1990, unfortunately I cannot recall what day of the week it was, I was in the Library at the University of Wisconsin-Superior as a struggling student-athlete trying to find my own life's path. In a library or bookstore I always find myself in awe of the published written word, bound tightly and presented for the world to enjoy, engage and devour. One of the books I happened to slip from the shelves of the "Reference" section was "Dictionary of Irish Literature," (c) 1979, by Robert Hogan and published by Greenwood Press Inc., Westport, Connecticut. I recently found the notes I took from that faithful evening, recalling I didn't have the change to make my own copy, which was probably five-cents. It was an entry on Page 62 about Pádraig Pearse, defined by my notes as "executed by a British firing squad in 1916," "shy, quiet," and "wanted liberation of Ireland through arms." My love affair with my proud Irish heritage began early in life with the warmly recalled memories of my Irish grandparents, Tom and Lena Conran. That Feb. 19th however, my energized quest to soak up Irish history beyond being proud of my heritage began. "Fornocht do chonnac thu" was the Gaelic title of Pearse's poem that translates into, a phrase the he would hate to hear, the King's English, "Naked I Saw Thee." The poem reads in what I will call 'the language my ancestors were forced to speak' as follows:
Naked I Saw Thee, O beauty of beauty
and I blinded my eyes, for fear I should fail
I heard thy music, o melody of melody
and I closed my ears for fear I should falter
I tasted thy mouth, o sweetness of sweetness
and I hardened by heart for fear of my slaying
I blinded my eyes and I closed my ears
I hardened my heart and I smothered my desire
I turned my back on the vision I have shaped
and to this road before me I turned my face
I have turned my face to this road before me
to the deed that I see and the death I shall die
These words, as lovely as poetic as desperate, lit the wick that became my undying passion for knowledge and understanding of my Irish roots. Hope you enjoy them.
2 comments:
Tim,
I love it. The thought behind it, the first entry, the courage to break out of the mold of every day life.
Time and again I've wanted to do something like this, only to sit back down on the couch. Maybe this is the push that I -- or someone else -- need to do something 'different.'
Go n-eiri an t-adh leat.
Mr. LeBarton
Thank you Christian. Slainte and Dia Duit, for our non-Gaelic speaking friends translates to Cheers and God Be With You. I most sincerely encourage you to unleash the scribe within. I know you've got it in you, so let her rip.
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