2014-05-29

Maya Angelou (Aibreán 14, 1928 – Bealtaine 28, 2014)

Fírinne Chróga Scanrúil [Sliocht]


Sinne, an pobal seo, ar phláinéidín uaigneach
Ag taisteal tríd an spás neamhchúiseach
Thar réaltaí deoranta, ar bhealach na ngrianta fuaránacha
Chuig ceann scríbe áit a ndeir na comharthaí uile linn
Gur féidir is gur den riachtanas é go bhfoghlaimeoimis
Fírinne chróga scanrúil
Agus nuair a bhainfimid amach é
Lá na síochánaíochta
Nuair a scaoilfidh ár méara
De dhoirne an naimhdis
Is ligean don aer íon ár ndearna a fhuarú

***

Sinne, an pobal, ar an bpláinéidín seo ar fán
Buaileann ár lamha gan smaoineamh
Sa tslí go seargann an beo i bhfaiteadh na súl
Na lámha céanna ar tadhall an leighis iad,
Tláithe nach féidir cur ina coinne
Agus is sásta roimpi a shléachtann an muineál uaibhreach
Agus cromann an droim mórtasach mar an gcéanna
As an anord sin, as an gcontrárthacht sin
Faighimid amach nach deamhain ná déithe sinn

Nuair a bhainfimid amach é
Sinne, an pobal, sa cholainn ghuagach seo ar snámh
A cruthaíodh ar an domhan seo, den domhan seo
D’fhéadfaimisne aeráid a mhúnlú don domhan seo
Ina mairfeadh gach aon fhear is gach aon bhean
Saor gan chráifeacht dhiagasúil
Gan eagla ár martraithe

Nuair a bhainfimid amach é
Ní mór dúinn a admháil gur féidir gur sinne
An mhíorúilt agus fíoriontas na cruinne seo
Sé sin nuair a bhainfimid
Is ní go mbainfimid amach é.

~ Maya Angelou ~

A Brave And Startling Truth


We, this people, on a small and lonely planet
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns
To a destination where all signs tell us
It is possible and imperative that we learn
A brave and startling truth
And when we come to it
To the day of peacemaking
When we release our fingers
From fists of hostility
And allow the pure air to cool our palms

***
We, this people, on this small and drifting planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living
Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the proud back is glad to bend
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction
We learn that we are neither devils nor divines

When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear

When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.

~ Maya Angelou ~