Teidil - Titles
Senses I
Pillowtalk
Portrait d'Une Femme
The Harpist
The Old Man's Pipes
Again
An Lámh a Luascann an Cliabhán
Ballad of the Shelter See
An Snag Breac
Dulce et Decorum Est
Banríon Mo Chroí






















Senses I

Twinkling lights
So peaceful and serene
You cross the cold, dark void
To reach me and move on

Sweet sound
Lilting and melodic
You cross a crowded room
To pass through me

Pleasant fragrance
Lovely perfume rising
Carried on a breeze
Envelops me

But the touch
Travels mere inches
And is for me alone

         -Antaine 2001

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     Pillowtalk
I lay awake at night and talk to you
Beautiful words I know you'll never hear
My feelings for you all well up anew
And I have things to whisper in your ear
I pretend it's you, hold the pillow tight
And say these things through many chok'd-back tears
While I plead with God that some day I might
Call you a source of joys instead of fears.
Perhaps some day those words will come to me
When I am with you, and nerve to use them
But then again no words can say these things
That only from a lovely kiss could stem
I long to feel the warmth as your eyes shine
Oh how I long to press my lips to thine.

-Antaine 2001


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Portrait d'Une Femme

I stand in the giant, darken'd room
Unable to see a thing.
I see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing
But a rush of cold air.

I light a candle
But the flame is so small
And the room so large
That it illuminates nothing.

Just a flicker in the darkness.

Discourag'd, I bend down
And touch the floor I don't know for sure is there
And I sit.
And my flame shows a carpet, royal purple
And I follow it to a wall.

I find marble walls hung with precious tapestries
As I get nearer to each object in the room
I discover it a room full of treasures
Priceless and innumerable.

Gold, silver, silks
Treasures of every type,                  
But I can only glimpse one at a time.
The dim light prohibits me from taking in the room.

But still, the glitter shows great value
Even if I only see a small part.

I wonder what the room must look like fully lit
With so many wonderful things to admire.

And then my candle catches something

Just a flicker in the darkness.

Standing in what I must surmise
Is the centre of the room                 
Is a giant
ugly
warp'd mirror.

As I stand before it, captivated
By its distorted image of me
In the dim flicker of the candle
The familiar features of my person
Become terrifying monstrosities
In this hateful mirror's gaze
And all the treasures of the room
Appear as worthless tin.

The farther from the mirror I stand
The less it distorts my features
Only as I approach
Does it transform my image.

It warps the world around it
Making ugliness where beauty is
And the longer one stares into it
The harder it becomes to discern
Reality.

I could try to break the mirror
To remove it from the beauty of the room
By force.

But that would only make
Thousands of the same.

And so I stand
Amidst the beautiful room's hideous reflection
And my own distorted image
Staring into the mirror.

Just a flicker in the darkness.

           -Antaine 2002

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The Harpist

fingers on the strings
the tension builds
as quicken'd breath races
silently
deftly
silence
stillness
then a rush
the fingers move
and begin their melody
the beauty of the wrist match'd
only by the beauty of the voice
the strains flowing like the harpist's red-tinged hair
shimmering stellar like her warm inviting eyes
that flash the light and look back at me
and I am lost in a sea of swimming sounds
as the fingers fly, the quicken'd breath behind a dam
my rapture in the silent music of her
face drowns out the rising storm
as she attacks the strings with delicate ferocity
the fingers stop and she
pauses, quicken'd breath racing silently
but I am tuned to the unceasing music of her form
and continue to dance

-Antaine 2002


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     The Old Man's Pipes
I do remember well the sound he made
As he rhythmically squeezed the old hide bag.
Tho' I never knew the tunes that he played,
They played in my mind when his spirit flagged.
I recall with joy the hum of his drones
And the song of the regulator keys.
I relished each of his chanter's sweet tones
As his fingers flew with deft expertise.
I see the old man's pipes lay silent now
On the table in the room of the wake;
The aging wood and the tarnished brass once proud,
The still bellows that cannot music make.
     I stare at them, the airless keys I touch
     But cannot make the sounds I loved so much.

          -Antaine 2004

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Again
I go to bed without you in my arms
And with a heavy heart you fill my dreams
I ask in silence what would be the harm?
The silent answers down my cheeks do stream.
I close my arms o'er nothing on my chest
Hoping some miracle would find you there.
But there is nothing where your head should rest
And I am holding nothing but the air.
Then in my tears I think I catch your scent
But you are not with me and never were
So I drift off to sleep, my feelings rent
My thoughts then to a happy place transfer
          I dream of you and what can never be
        Except in such a hollow fantasy.

                 -Antaine 2004


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An Lámh a Luascann an Cliabhán

Bhí an fear óg ag troid
Leis an gclaíomh's leis an ngunna.
Dhíshealbhaigh sé an rí gallda
Ach fuair sé bás

Tá an seanfhear ag troid
Leis an vóta is le focail.
Cuireann sé a dhuine don Dáil
Anam an Phobail a shábháil

Ach is fearr an ógbhean a dhéanamh
Le focail Ghaeilge a rá i gcogar le leanbh
Ná na claímhte is na gunnaí go léir
Agus dlíthe is óráidí mórga

       -Antaine 2005

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Ballad of the Shelter See

'Twas midnight, and the Shelter See
Did glip upon the snow
And far beyond the sillen Glore
It lay in mirthing glow.

Thus ne'er before and ne'er since
Had such a thing been seen
For all about the Shelter See
The garbles they did preen.

What then of gallant Farbledry,
What of the Age of Knoo,
When long ago the Shelter See
Began with sarble drue?

For in that age did stately men
All titled Bonn or Tee
Rode out from graming Shelter See
And slew the Vosnickey.

Its blood ran green, its yerron, too
And flowed from kleet to kleet
For ten thousand years or more
Did men this tale repeat.

Where are your Bonns and Tees today
Oh floryyd Shelter See?
For there are things from the sillen Glore
Far worse than Vosnickey.

-Antaine 2006

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An Snag Breac

Do súile is áille faoin spéir
Mo snag breac ionúin
An t-éan gadaíocht
A ghoid mo chroí.

Is feidir liom a chailleadh mé féin
I d'aghaidh scéimhiúil
I measc do chleití dubha
Ar nós an oíche dorcha.

Taitiníonn do bheatha liom
A éan gleoite deas
Táim lán de ghrá duitse
A chuisle mo chroí.

-Antaine 2008

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Dulce et Decorum Est

Chruinníomar ag éirí na gealaí
Agus d’imríomar an cluiche tírghrá.
Leanamar iad suas go Ceatharlach
Agus sheasamar ar Chnoc Fíodh na gCaor.

Chruinnigh siad sinne in aghaidh an Strainséir
Thógamar liúis is sheasamar le misneach
Gualainn ar ghualainn
Agus dhoirteamar ár bhfuil ar son ár dtíre.

Ach bhí ár súile ar oscailt
Is thuigeamar a cuireadh dallamullóg orainn
Bhí ár mbuanna díolta asainn
Don ceann namhaid a throideamar.

Dhein na ceannairí síocháin saibhir
Dheineamair leis ár onóir
Agus comrádaithe is fir ár dtíre ag codail
Faoina goirt eorna.

-Antaine 2009

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Banríon Mo Chroí

Tá cailín álainn ann
Tá a súile is geal
Is í an banríon mo chroí
Thug mé mo chroí di
Agus d'oscail mé mo shaol
Le soghontacht
Coinneann an banríon seo
Mo ghrá ina láimhe
Tá intaoibh agam aisti
Ach tá an banríon cineálta
Tá cion aici ormsa
Le póga leochaileacha is milse
    Tugaim mo fhéin don banríon clíste
    Tugann sí lúchair dom mar mhalairt.

-Antaine 2009


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