I put my feet upon the screaming stone of Tara.
The worlds merged, the door opened.
But I was not admitted to the hall of Finn.
St. Patricks Day
SIGNAL BOX SCENE:Jimmy is sitting down, engrossed in a newspaper. Ignatius is lolling on another chair, smoking. Jimmy shakes head and gestures at paper. He looks up, frowning.
JIMMY: Yiss. Saint Patrick's Day. Dya know, we might all be makin a mistake, a HIDYUS mistake. The brother says there was never any such man as Saint Patrick.
IGNATIUS:Ah come here now,Jimmy, the national Apostle. That's no sort of talk to be givin out of you.
JIMMY: I'm oney tellin ya what the brother says. So far as I'm consairned, I have always been all FOR St. Patrick's Day. I think I've seen more Patrick's Day processions than anny man alive. What am I talkin about--didn't I walk in TWO of them. Th'oul fella was an Irish Forester with a green clawhammer on him and in nineteen and O twelve he med me step out in the brigade of the Glasnevin Branch of the Gaelic League with A KILT ON ME, man yiss, and a pipe band in front of us playing the Rakes of Malla.
IGN: That must have ben a great sight--yerself in kilts and a plaad over yer shoulder and the big knobbly knees on full display for all to see.
The rest of it.
For the last time are you coming down?
There was a gentle rustle in the thick of the green branches, a slow caress like the visit of a summer breeze in a field of oats, a faint lifeless movement: and a voice descended on the travellers, querulous and saddened with an infinite weariness, a thin voice that was occupied with the recital of these staves:
Sweeney the thin-groined it is,
in the middle of the yew;
life is very bare here,
piteous Christ, it is cheerless.
Grey branches have hurt me,
they have pierced my calves,
I hang here in the yew-tree above,
without chessmen, no womantryst.
I can put no faith in humans
in the place they are;
watercress at evening is my lot,
I will not come down.--Flann O'Brien, from At Swim-Two-Birds
Hightime is ups be it down into outs according! When thee shall be foods for vermin as full as feeds for the fett, eat on earth as there's hot in oven. When every Klitty of a scolderymaid shall hold every yardscullion's right to stemm her uprecht for whimsoever, whether on privates, whether in publics.--James Joyce, from Finnegan's Wake
don't wait too long for me
if I don't arrive in white summer
sometimes I'm tempted by the sea
on the long road to you
it is no more than my own tears
keep your heart safe
don't say I left you
say I drowned
-- Micael Davitt, "Chugat (To You)", trans from Irish Gaelic by the author
also, the irish curse generator!
example:
English: May the devil choke your cornflakes.
Irish: Go dtachta an diabhal do chuid calóga arbhair.
Phonetic: guh DAHKH-tuh uhn JOWL duh khwihj KAH-lo-guh AH-ruh-wir.
3. Do I really own the land?
Yes, absolutely. When you purchase a plot of land you are the legal owner of that property. It is important to note that we do not hold the land 'in trust' for you - you are the actual owners of the property.
5. How long will I own the land?
You can own the land forever if you wish. In order for us to work within the law here in Ireland it is necessary for us to initially give you 20 year leasehold ownership of the land, however you can renew this lease at no charge after 20 years, and indefinitely after this, again at no charge.
--Flann O'Brien, from At Swim-Two-Birds--James Joyce, from Finnegan's Wake-- Micael Davitt, "Chugat (To You)", trans from Irish Gaelic by the author