Bhí sé de nós againn uilig
Domhan eile ionann a shamhlú
Agus sinn níos óige,
Bhí muid, tráth, inár laochra dúinn féin;
Ar thóir an chúl báire, an airgid, nó an óir,
Samhlaíocht agus soineantas an pháiste,
Ba láidre iad ná lámh Dé é féin.
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Scott De Buitléir releases second bilingual poetry collection, with foreword from Scottish Gaelic writer, Marcas Mac an Tuairneir
Love during lockdown, childhood memories, gay rights history, and spirituality are just some of the themes covered in Elysium // Párthas, the new poetry collection from Scott De Buitléir.(more…)
Trigger Warning: Assault, Murder
In memory of Sarah Everard.
Breath by breath
she counts, in and out
and thinks of anything else
– tonight was a good night, overall
Step by step
the path she knew so well
was darker then, but the same danger
for threats persist without shadow.
Inch by inch
the goosebumps ran
over skin he touched, before:
“Sorry, I’ve got a man”
A lie which lay
between scorn and escape,
his eyes seared into hers, piercing:
“Right, whatever, see ya later”
Pick up the pace,
keys firm in hand
should a cat call need a southpaw
– only six more streets left.
Steps echoed to a rhythm
not of her own, for echoes of
sound and mind keep apace
– don’t look back, just go
but pace and path
catch up at last
and a laneway became a gateway
– exit, stage left.
Rose by rose,
the petals fall
with heads down as her coffin’s laid low
And yet, they’ll explain
instead of how he got away,
that it was her fault, somehow,
she was slain.
Cork, 11 March 2021
We are uneasy, living
in such mundane luxury as this:
The privilege of stasis,
waiting on the last to die
like the first-born sons of Egypt
while we at home watch dust build
over dust, ashes to ashes.
– for now –
in hygiene and health
know not the pain of that final Facetime,
a window without closure,
yet we’re all in this together.
While heretics sacrifice
humanity to false gods,
not in search of promised land
but to maim our immortal soul
and take from us our hope and love
And yet, throughout, we faithful pray
for salvation, sought in how we stay
and wait for the glory of a warm embrace.
Cork, 1 February 2021
Irish version below / Leagan Gaeilge thíos
How bizarre for us all this silence seems to be instead of the rush of cars, calls, or crowds from place to place without a single destination in mind As if someone, somewhere raised an alarm – the Earth herself pleading for a moment's rest, to catch one's breath and let the skies clear. And what harm? If we, silent, are safe we have this chance to see speed is not the saviour, but humanity.
Is aisteach dúinn an ciúnas seo In ionad na tráchta, na cainte, na sluaite ag dul timpeall na háite gan sprioc ach chun luas a choimeád. Ar nós gur ardaíodh aláram – an Domhan é féin ag impí orainn sos a ghlacadh chun anáil a tharraingt fad is a ghlantar an spéir. Agus cén dochar? Más slán sinn, tá deis againn a fheiceáil nach é luas an laoch ach an daonnacht.
Cork / Corcaigh
31 March/Márta 2020