In Praise of the Great Bull Walrus
I wouldn't like to be one
of the walrus people
for the rest of my life
but I wish I could spend
one sunny afternoon
lying on the rocks with them.
I suspect it would be similar
to drinking beer in a tavern
that caters to longshoremen
and won't admit women.
We'd exchange no
cosmic secrets. I'd merely say,
"How yuh doin' you big old walrus?"
and the nearest of
the walrus people
would answer,
"Me? I'm doin' great.
How yuh doin' yourself,
you big old human being, you?"
How good it is to share
the earth with such creatures
and how unthinkable it would have been
to have missed all this
by not being born:
a happy thought, that,
for not being born is
the only tragedy
that we can imagine
but never fear.
~ Alden Nowlan ~
(Between Tears and Laughter: Selected Poems)
Molaimis an Rosualt Mór
Níor mhaith liom socrú síos
le pobal na rosualt
ar feadh an chuid eile dem shaol
ach níor mhiste liom tráthnóna gréine
a chaitheamh leo
i mo luí ar na carraigeacha.
Is dóigh liom go mbeadh sé ar nós
beoir a ól i dtábhairne
a fhreastalaíonn ar lucht cladaigh
agus cosc ar mhná ann.
Ní rúin chosmacha a roinnfimis
ar a chéile. Ní déarfainnse ach,
‘Conas tá an misneach, a dhuine?’
Agus déarfadh an rosualt
is gaire dhom,
‘Mhuise, ní gearánta dhom,
conas tánn tú féinig,
a stail?’
Nach breá an rud é an domhan a roinnt
le neacha mar iad
agus samhlaigh
nach bhfacamar riamh a leithéid
mar nár saolaíodh sinn;
smaoineamh suairc, go deimhin,
mar an tubaiste is mó
is féidir a shamhlú ná gan a bheith ann
agus ní cás d’éinne againn bheith buartha ina thaobh sin.
