Grab the edge of daily life, and rip it to shreds.

Pat’s sister is with Pádraig while Pat and I are involved in exams and a Summer School. Yesterday, she told him a story and at the end he took her hand and lifted it up to his face. It’s the first time both of us have been away for a few days, nothing we could do about it. It is so strange though. And so lonely.

Ciara wrote a poem and kindly allowed me to share it with you. Thank you, Ciara.

Suan Eile

Bhí mé i mo chodladh nuair a thit tú –
mo shúile dúnta dall ar an uafás a bhí i ndán.

Más féidir leatsa ‘bheith leagtha níl riail nó dlí ar domhan.

Bhí mé i mo chodladh nuair a thit tú –
‘s níor dhúisigh mé ón tromluí fós.

D’iarraidh greim a fháil ar choirnéal an lae,
é a stróiceadh i dhá leath ‘s léim chuig do thaobh.

Ó éirím go dtí go luím go dtí
go dtitim i mo chodladh, smaoiním

ar an lá gur thit tú,
nuair a chuaigh tú a chodladh

‘s nach bhfuil ciall le tada ó shin.

*

A different slumber

I was sleeping when you fell-
my eyes shut tight to the sorrow in store.

All’s strange and unnatural,
in a world where you’ve been hurt.

I was sleeping when you fell –
and I woke to a long living nightmare.

I want to grab the edge of daily life,
rip it to shreds, and fly to your side.

From my wake to my sleep and all in
between I am always thinking

of the moment when you fell
and were sent to your slumber

and nothing matters since.

*

Grab the edge of daily life, and rip it to shreds.