i like irish poetry. i like knowing a man called tadhg ó ruaic, fl. 1684, lost a game of cards to a girl called blánaid on purpose because he wanted her to top him
you penetrate my weak defence / teasing me with anxious love / i know the score; my turn to play / against your side i make my move … blánaid, my dear, my favourite one / gentle, fragrant, guileless love / it’s time for you to trump my man / and ‘take’ me with a daring move … come sit beside me, woman of the wavy hair / embrace me, bright branch of the cool grey eyes / resolve my torment, generous-gentle woman / and ‘take’ me quickly to your merciful bed
extract translated from the classical gaelic by derek mahon
(via jenny-dreadful)
