Díláithrithe, éan ar strae ón ealta
le T’ao Ch’ien
Díláithrithe, éan ar strae ón ealta –ag eitilt leis de shíor isteach sa chontráth.
Soir is siar, níl áit aige chun scíth a ligean,
oíche i ndiaidh oíche, a éamh níos cráite fós.
A ghlór géar ag tnúth leis an ngléine i gcéin,
is fada a theacht, is suaite a chleitearnach!
Tagann sé trí sheans ar ghiúis atá ag fás léi féin;
Filleann a dhá sciathán, tá sé tagtha abhaile fá dheoidh.
Gustaí gaoithe nach gceadódh fás borb;
Sé seo an t-aon mhullach gan dreo ann.
Tá fara faighte aige, is ann atá a scíth
agus ní imeoidh as go ceann míle bliain.
Unsettled, a bird lost from the flock
Unsettled, a bird lost from the flock --
Keeps flying by itself in the dusk.
Back and forth, it has no resting place,
Night after night, more anguished its cries.
Its shrill sound yearns for the pure and distant --
Coming from afar, how anxiously it flutters!
It chances to find a pine tree growing all apart;
Folding its wings, it has come home at last.
In the gusty wind there is no dense growth;
This canopy alone does not decay.
Having found a perch to roost on,
In a thousand years it will not depart.
-- from Sunflower Splendor: Three Thousand Years of Chinese Poetry, Edited by Wu-chi Liu / Edited by Irving Yucheng Lo
