Poesia kaiera
Aurkibidea
Aurkibidea
Colum cille cecinit
I. Is scíth mo chrob ón scríbainn
Nire eskua zurminduta dago idaztez.
Nire lumak zorrotza du punta.
Bere txori-mokoak tinta kakalardo distiratsu
Urdin-ilun bat isurtzen du.
Jakinduriaren emaria borborrean
Trazu fineko nire esku beluritik:
Gorosti berdatuaren tintazko
Ubidea pergamuan.
Nire lumatxo bizia badoa tantaka
Liburuetan barrena, kosta ahala kosta,
Jakintsuek idatzitakoak ondu nahian —
Eskua zurmintzen didan idaztez.
II. Is aire charaim doire
Derry nire kuttuna.
Lasaia da, argia da.
Aingeru zurien sardak itzulinguruka
bazter guztietan.
III. Fil sùi nglais
Begi gris batek Irlandarantz
Begiratuko du atzera baina
Ez du inoiz ikusiko berriro
Irlandako gizon-emakumerik.
XI/XII mendeak
Colum Cille Cecinit
I. Is scíth mo chrob ón scríbainn
My hand is cramped from penwork. / My quill has a tapered point. / Its bird-mouth issues a blue-dark / Beetle-sparkle of ink. // Wisdom keeps welling in streams / From my fine-drawn sallow hand: / Riverrun on the vellum / Of ink from green-skinned holly. // My small runny pen keeps going / Through books, through thick and thin, / To enrich the scholars' holdings- / Penwork that cramps my hand.
II. Is aire charaim doire
Derry I cherish ever. / It is calm, it is clear. / Crowds of white angels on their rounds / At every corner.
III. Fil súil nglais
Towards Ireland a grey eye / Will look back but not see / Ever again / The men of Ireland or her women.