Sop Préacháin [A Crow's Wisp]

Do Keara [For Keara] stuaim Ba cheart bhur gcur ó aithne, tá an tír róbheag, teanga níos stuama a chleachtadh nó seasamh siar ón tús. Ach anois thar aon am eile, níl teacht ná dul ón tosach. Ag cóisir daoibh in íoslach tí, thug tú úll dó in áit osclóra. Bíonn dúil agus dúil ann, a shonc féin, ba mheidhreach: Bíonn diúltú agus diúltú ann — No thanks, I’ve read the Bible. cant Wipe your memory: the country’s too small, practice holding your tongue or stand back from the thing. As much as ever now there’s no getting past how she slid with aplomb not a corkscrew but an apple into his palm. There’s come-ons, and come-ons and then some. His comeback was winsome. There’s no thanks, and no-thanks-but-frisky— If that makes me Adam, then you must be ... an chéad phlaic I seile an sciatháin leathair, tá ceimiceán a choisceann an fhuil ar théachtadh: De nádúr an ainmhí é gur luaithe tál ná téarnamh. the first mouthful There’s a chemical in bats’ saliva that stops our blood congealing. The animal in us puts giving before healing. an dara plaic Ba gheall le moladh an dara priocadh: gur chaith tú uait gan chothrom fola crúbáil na hoíche faoi sholas obann: tabhairt na doraidh go glé, dá dtabharfaí the second mouthful Praise be, you thought, when you gave up the ghost. But where’s the glory with no blood lost? The nails of the night beneath a bare bulb: your challenge spotlit. Now take it up. an tríú plaic, nó ath-quoof i Aithníonn sé faoin am seo, an fear i do theannta, nach ligtear as do cheann iad, na cuimhní cinn a roinntear, go mbíodh colúir theachtaireachta aige féin is a athair is go ndéanaidís blaoscanna uibhe a théamh chun gob an éin a neartú. Thug is tugann leat, an taom a bhuail an buachaill, é ag fanacht in oirchill is na blaoscáin á róstadh, gur fhág sé faoin teas rófhada iad— d’aon turas—a chroí ina bhéal aige— le teann spóirt, b’fhéidir, féachaint, dá ainneoin féin, mar a bheadh acu dá bpléascadh blaosc san oigheann air. the third mouthful (quoof: slight return i) Pillow-talker, as you’d be the first to admit, a cat let out of the bag won’t go back in. Now she’s up to speed on how you and your dad used eggshells to harden the beaks of your pigeons, nodding off over them, billing and cooing, waiting for the shells to roast. Once you left them under the heat on purpose, for devilment maybe—come on, come on—curious what might happen if left in too long. an ceathrú plaic nó ath-quoof ii Aithníodh sé thairis— leathchéile na cuilte, nach slogadh gan chogaint í, an chuimhne cinn leathoilte. Súil siar is túisce a bhuaileann an sprioc: an buachaill nach gcodlaíodh nuair ba thrúig oilc an tost. Níorbh fhéidir a shuaimhniú go gcloiseadh fead na traenach: má bhí tiománaí ina dhúiseacht, ní raibh sé ina aonar. the fourth mouthful (quoof: slight return ii) Something else to chew on besides the tales he’s spun: he should recognize, no matter where, his duvet twin. For the boy keeping watch when sleep would be nobler, the place to look may be over his shoulder. Who can’t rest until the train whistle blows: if the driver is out there he can’t be alone. iarfhocal Bhí a fhios aici, an bhean sin, nárbh ionann súil is éisteacht. Is d’admhódh de chogar claon gur fhadaigh tost an béaldath. Sop préacháin a deirtí le bean a chaitheadh fear uaidh, píosa tuí a d’ardaigh an ghaoth nuair nár oir go beacht don éinín. afterword Well she knew that holding an eye isn’t having an ear; and beyond that she knew how silence improves lipstick. A woman a man drops is called a crow’s wisp: something the wind takes when a bird lets it slip. Translated from the Irish