An lá a sheol ár ndeirfiúr uainn
bhí folús dofhulaingthe ina diaidh.
B’aoibhinn léi canadh di féin
is tógadh seomra ar leith di.
Scaip macalla brónach a gutha
ar fud an tseomra –
gortaíonn sé fós sinn ó am go ham.
D’fhág sí go deo sinn
í féin is a grá geal – sin é an nós againn,
is deacair glacadh leis.
Toisc go mba gheal léi bláth an simalu*
níor inis sí bréag riamh don abhainn.
Nuair a thug an bád uainn í
chuaigh a crá i méid.
Jiban Narah
* Crann síoda cadáis
Farewell (Biday)
On the day our sister departed
she left an unbearable emptiness in her wake.
Because she loved to sing alone
a room of her own was built.
The sad resonance of her singing
scattered in the room –
it hurts us still from time to time.
She left us forever
with the boy she loved —that’s the custom,
not easy to accept.
Because she loved the simalu* blossom
she never told a lie to the river.
The day she sailed downstream
her sorrow began to grow.
Jiban NarahTranslated by Lyra Neog(reworked by Gabriel Rosenstock)
*Silk-cotton tree.
