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Never met you, Marcus. But today, I heard your poem, your song with words, twice. Read out loud to me. I don’t understand the words of your poetry. But I feel them. Tonight. Still. They went straight to my heart.
Than, later, a good friend sent a translation for me (and for Pádraig’s non-Irish speaking friends). Here it goes.
Pádraig
I have never met you
But for 9 months (ráithe= 3 months =quarter, trí ráithe=9 months I think!) now
The long silence that is coming from you
Is being filled by people who don’t stop talking about you
Kíla- playing music for you
As you were laid down in Beaumont Hospital
A chirp(?) or two from the toilet of a train (I can’t remember what exactly the story was with Aodhán except that is was very funny!)
From a friend without a ticket who is on his way to see you
Tonncheol (not sure what this means, something to do with music, maybe melody) and harmony (literally “together-music”) from the men’s choir
Singing a healing health to you from the Workman’s
Daily letters from your father’s limbo
Sieving the words, wanting to feel (understand) it all
Seosamh from the club just back from Hamburg
After seeing you
Describing it with his mouth (words)
But his eyes looking (seeking) for a different story
And the 50 brave Spartans
Who traveled in a line from coast to coast
And who swam deep into the spring sea
And your name was on everyone’s lips – your name
I went out to the finishing point of your swim
And I let a yell (shout) out of me as did everyone there
And I let out that shout again on paper for you,
That you, Pádraig, will return home safe and well.
Marcus Mac Chongail (@ceolbaile)
Nothing to add to this.
Today, Pádraig was as alert as yesterday. Not moving that much, maybe. But so alert. Another day of beautiful, live and life transforming music in what often is the most dire or rooms. He listened, and, I am sure, he sang with you accompanying the most beautiful of voices, singing the most beautiful songs. What an experience, a mixture of the most powerful emotions you can imagine, some real beauty filled the room. Safe home to two friends, save travels to India to another.
Today’s German Music Tip
Juliane Werding, Wenn Du denkst Du denkst dann denkst Du nur Du denkst (ca. 1975), This is what women power looked like in 1975 in Germany – in Dieter Thomas Heck’s Hitparade. Gruselig…
What’s hot
Music
What’s cold
Dieter Thomas Heck’s Hitparade
The German word/phrase/verse of the day
Mogelpackung
Hospi-Tales 
poetry, music, and so many things this situation is getting to move… Besos y abrazos, a Pádraig, Reinhard, Pat, Laura y Maria.
Hello, Reinhard. Good friends of mine whom I met for lunch today gave me a copy of The Meath Chronicle, which has a feature on the Snámh. It’s very good to see this initiative getting recognition. Also, of course, to know that there are many people out there who have not met you, or Pádraig, personally, but are thinking of you and alert to every mention. With best wishes, Louise.
Such a lovely poem. I meant to comment on this the other day to say that Giolc is one of the irish words for Tweet and it refers to the time I lost my train ticket on way to Hamburg and instead of trying to explain to ticket inspector I decided to hide in the toilet. The author of the poem follows me on twitter and must have seen some of my tweets from the toilet that day. I had pictures and all!!!
Also I think tonncheol would be the ceol of the tonnta- the music of the waves… (could be wrong though)
The music of the waves with the harmony of the male choir…
This is where students of Irish will do their research in years to come, Aodhán, trying to interpret that word that they think describes the sound of a toilet on a train, and turns out to mean tweet:) … Wonderful! Good job to dodge the German ticket inspectors, no mean feast!