I have rebooted a translation from a Gaelic poem by Eoghan Rua Ó Súilleabháin from the 18th century, a time when the Penal Laws were cruelly glued onto the native population to create degradation and deprivation of their culture, poetry, stories, language, and faith.
My re-write of that translation here celebrates the vibrant freedom of poetic and story voice we enjoy today, at least through Ireland. To me this is a respectful freedom of following the faith that calls us, and freedom of voice and story whether we were born here or not
Plus, a last line that is a slight change from a Robin Williams line ...
My trouble! My lament! My torment!
That caused me to be in want.
Returned to the land that once again
Is free for the voices of prophets and poets,
And the scholars and wise people.
Poems composed, and stories told
With pleasure, and wit, as well as memories,
Lively music of sorrow, then of joy,
In tranquil spaces
Courtesy and boldness, in dancing, and clapping.
Opening our hearts, without fear of them being closed.
Crossing bridges of connection,
Rather than be confined behind walls of oppression.
What will your verse be today?
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