A BHEAN LÁN DE STUAIM

A BHEAN LÁN DE STUAIM

A bhean lán de stuaim
le
Seathrún Céitinn

O woman full of wiles
by
Geoffrey Keating

A bhean lán de stuaim
coingibh uaim do lámh:
ní fear gníomha sinn,
cé taoi tinn dar ngrádh.

O woman full of wiles
Take your hand away from there
I can't do what you want
Though sick with love we are.

Féach ar liath dem fholt,
féach mo chorp gan lúth,
féach ar thraoch dem fhuil --
créad re bhfuil do thnúth?

My hair has fallen out
My blood has turned to dust
My body's lost its youth
Is it after this you lust?

Ná saoil mé go saobh,
arís ná claon do cheann;
bíodh ar ngrádh gan ghníomh
go bráth, a shíodh sheang.

Don't think that I've gone daft
Or toss your head again,
Our loving must be chaste
O slender fairy one.

Druid do bhéal óm bhéal --
doiligh an scéal do chor--
ná bíom cneas re cneas:
tig on teas an tol.

Take your mouth away from mine
For I pity you your plight --
When your skin rubs on mine
The heat sets us alight.

Do chill craobhach cas,
do rosc glas mar dhrúcht,
do chíoch chruinngheal bhláith,
tharraingeas mian súl.

Your lovely curly hair,
Your dew-bright green eyes
Your flower-white rounded breasts
Only my eyes can please.

Gach ghníomh acht ghníomh cuirp
is luighe id chuilt shuain
do-ghéan féin tréd ghrádh,
a bhean lán de stuaim.

My body can't speak the words
Yours hears beneath the quilt --
All else I'll do for love
O woman full of wiles.

A fhinnebhean tséimh shéaghanta shárchaoin tsuairc
na muirearfholt réidh raonfholtach fa a ndíol gcuach,
is iongnadh an ghné thaomannach fhasaíos uait;
gé doiligh an scéal, tréig me agus táig dhíom suas.

O fair lady, so gentle, accomplished, refined,
With cascading hair flowing down in ringlets and curls;
I cannot look at you without suddenly catching my breath
You must give me up, however hard it may be.

Do-bheirimse fém bhréithir dá mbáití an slua
san tuile do léig venus 'na táclaí anuas,
a bhurraiceach-bhé mhéarlag na mbáinchíoch gcruaidh,
gur tusa mar aon céidbhean do fágfaí im chuan.

I swear that if all the rest were drowned in the flood
That Venus let down when she shook out her wet hair,
You are the one I would want to be left with me,
To enjoy forever your fingers, your figure, your breasts.

Back to Introduction

A bhean lán de stuaim le Seathrún Céitinn	O woman full of wiles by Geoffrey Keating
A bhean lán de stuaim coingibh uaim do lámh: ní fear gníomha sinn, cé taoi tinn dar ngrádh.	O woman full of wiles Take your hand away from there I can't do what you want Though sick with love we are.
Féach ar liath dem fholt, féach mo chorp gan lúth, féach ar thraoch dem fhuil -- créad re bhfuil do thnúth?	My hair has fallen out My blood has turned to dust My body's lost its youth Is it after this you lust?
Ná saoil mé go saobh, arís ná claon do cheann; bíodh ar ngrádh gan ghníomh go bráth, a shíodh sheang.	Don't think that I've gone daft Or toss your head again, Our loving must be chaste O slender fairy one.
Druid do bhéal óm bhéal -- doiligh an scéal do chor-- ná bíom cneas re cneas: tig on teas an tol.	Take your mouth away from mine For I pity you your plight -- When your skin rubs on mine The heat sets us alight.
Do chill craobhach cas, do rosc glas mar dhrúcht, do chíoch chruinngheal bhláith, tharraingeas mian súl.	Your lovely curly hair, Your dew-bright green eyes Your flower-white rounded breasts Only my eyes can please.
Gach ghníomh acht ghníomh cuirp is luighe id chuilt shuain do-ghéan féin tréd ghrádh, a bhean lán de stuaim.	My body can't speak the words Yours hears beneath the quilt -- All else I'll do for love O woman full of wiles.
A fhinnebhean tséimh shéaghanta shárchaoin tsuairc na muirearfholt réidh raonfholtach fa a ndíol gcuach, is iongnadh an ghné thaomannach fhasaíos uait; gé doiligh an scéal, tréig me agus táig dhíom suas.	O fair lady, so gentle, accomplished, refined, With cascading hair flowing down in ringlets and curls; I cannot look at you without suddenly catching my breath You must give me up, however hard it may be.
Do-bheirimse fém bhréithir dá mbáití an slua san tuile do léig venus 'na táclaí anuas, a bhurraiceach-bhé mhéarlag na mbáinchíoch gcruaidh, gur tusa mar aon céidbhean do fágfaí im chuan.	I swear that if all the rest were drowned in the flood That Venus let down when she shook out her wet hair, You are the one I would want to be left with me, To enjoy forever your fingers, your figure, your breasts.