To Constance Markievicz on Her Prison Birthday
February 1917
What has time to do with thee,
Who hast found the victors’ way
To be rich in poverty,
Without sunshine to be gay,
To be free in a prison cell.
Nay on that undreamed judgement day,
When on the old world’s scrap-heap flung,
Powers and empires pass away
Radiant and unconquerable,
Thou shalt be young.
Eva Gore-Booth (1870-1926)
Do Constance Markievicz ar a Lá Breithe i bPríosún
Feabhra 1917
Am ní bhaineann leat, a chroí,
Siúlann tusa cosán an bhua,
Saibhir is gan agat aon ní,
Aerach is gan grian ar do ghrua,
Saor i gcarcair ataoi.
Is nuair a thiocfaidh Lá an Luain
Ar charn an tseandomhain ina luí
Beidh cumhachtaí is impireachtaí,
Is tusa gléineach buan dochloíte
Óg síoraí.
