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PARTAKE (poem) - Ceaití Ní Bheildiúin - Ireland - Poetry International
 
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TAR AGUS TÓG
Labhrann an cnoc:
 
Má tá cosaint uait, tar
i dtreo mo shleasa is mo dhúnta;
má tá beannacht uait, tar
chun mo thoibreacha beo;
má tá ort dul i bhfolach, tar                          
faoi ionarbhréid mo cheo.     
 
Fearaim fáilte roimis glaine croí
roimis aigne leathan oscailte.
Altaím taithí nua, cuairteoirí nua –                           
an laoch is an lag.
Tar ón Afraic is ón Oirthear
ó Siria, ón Eiritré, ón Afganastáin.
 
Tá scóip anseo ar mo sciortaí
togha is rogha de thithe:
tithe móra an Tíogair Cheiltigh
tithe chomh mór le hostáin
tithe móra na gcroíthe móra
tithe beaga fáilteacha
tithe lán ach slí i gcónaí
do dhuine breise iontu
tithe samhlaithe, tithe samhraidh
tithe folmha, tithe ullmha
tithe tréigthe, tithe titithe
tithe tinteáin, tithe le ceol is brí
tithe an dua, tithe na sí.
 
Tar thar lear, thar tairseach chugam –    
tá láithreacha agam
is fothain anseo do phobal.
Tar isteach i mo bharróg.
Tar agus tóg. 
PARTAKE
The hill speaks:
 
If you are defenceless, come
close to my side and sanctuary;
if you are short of blessings, come
to drink from my wellsprings;
if you are in need of a hiding place, come
under the veil of my mists.
 
I give a welcome to the pure in heart
to a broad open mind.
I rejoice in new ways, new visitors –
the mighty and the weak.
Come from Africa and the East
from Syria, Eritrea, Afghanistan.
 
There’s scope here in my skirts
for the picking and choosing of your houses:
the grand houses of the Tiger
as roomy as hotels
big houses with big hearts
little houses of welcome
houses full but always a way
to squeeze in a few more
holiday homes, dream homes
empty houses, houses just built
abandoned houses, fallen-down houses
houses whose hearths ring with music and vigour
houses of hardship, houses of the fairies.
 
Come across the seas to me, come into my place -
I have empty ground
and shelter here for a people.
Come into my open arms.
Partake.