The Poem-Book of the Gael / Translations from Irish Gaelic Poetry into English Prose and Verse

DUST HATH CLOSED HELEN'S EYE

Anthony Raftery.

oing to Mass, by the will of God
The day came wet and the wind rose;
I met Mary Haynes at the cross of Kiltartan
And I fell in love with her then and there.

I spoke to her kind and mannerly
As by report was her own way;
And she said, "Raftery, my mind is easy,
You may come to-day to Baile-laoi."

When I heard her offer I did not linger,
When her talk went to my heart my heart rose.
We had only to go across the three fields,
We had daylight with us to Baile-laoi.

The table was laid with glasses and a quart measure;
She had fair hair and she sitting beside me,
And she said, "Drink, Raftery, and a hundred welcomes,
There is a strong cellar in Baile-laoi."

O star of light, and O sun in harvest,
O amber hair, O my share of the world,
Will you come with me upon Sunday
Till we agree together before all the people?

I would not grudge you a song every Sunday evening,
Punch on the table or wine if you would drink it,
But, O King of Glory, dry the roads before me,
Till I find the way to Baile-laoi.

There is a sweet air on the side of the hill
When you are looking down upon Baile-laoi;
When you are walking in the valley picking nuts and blackberries
There is music of the birds in it and music of the sidhe.

What is the worth of greatness till you have the light
Of the flower of the branch that is by your side?
There is no good to deny it or to try to hide it,
She is the sun in the heavens who wounded my heart.

There is no part of Ireland I did not travel
From the rivers to the tops of the mountains,
To the edge of Loch GrÉine whose mouth is hidden,
And I saw no beauty that was behind hers.

Her hair was shining and her brows were shining, too;
Her face was like herself, her mouth pleasant and sweet.
She is my pride, and I give her the branch,
She is the shining flower of Baile-laoi.

It is Mary Haynes, the calm and easy woman,
Her beauty in her mind and in her face.
If a hundred clerks were gathered together,
They could not write down a half of her ways.

Lady Gregory.

The title is added by Mr. W. B. Yeats to an article written by him on this poem in The Dome (New Series, vol. iv.). Lady Gregory informs me that Mr. Yeats has slightly worked over her translation.

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