-
Subject Index A-B
-
Subject Index C-F
-
Subject Index G-K
-
Subject Index L-O
-
Subject Index P-Z
Email: info@searcs-web.com
Searc's Web Guide to 14th Century Ireland - Gearoid Iarla Fitzgerald (1335-1398)
|
|
Email: info@searcs-web.com Searc's Web Guide to 14th Century Ireland - Gearoid Iarla Fitzgerald (1335-1398) |
| Gearoid Iarla
Fitzgerald, Third Earl of Desmond, was appointed Lord Chief Justice of Ireland in 1367. Three years later, during
the Gaelic-Norman wars, Fitzgerald was imprisoned by Brian O'Brien of Thomond. While in prison Fitzgerald composed poetry in Irish and is accredited with introducing the Courtly Love motif into medieval Irish poetry.
Under Fitzgerald's influence the Geraldines (supporters of the Normans in Ireland) abandoned the French language and spoke Irish thereafter, making Fitzgerald a pivotal figure in the Gaelicisation of Norman Ireland. It is known that Fitzgerald disappeared in 1398, gaining a place in Irish folklore wherein, it is believed, he sleeps enchanted in a hill cave near Loch Gur, County Limerick. Legend has it that when Fitzgerald rises from his sleep and rides a silver shod horse, he will rule again over the plains of Desmond. This version of Mairg adeir olc ris na mnáibh is from T.F. O'Rathaille's Dánta Grádha (1926) with a verse translation Against Blame of Women by Eleanor Hull from Hubert Wolfe's Poems from the Irish (1927).© |
|
bheith dá n-éagnach ní dáil chruinn, a bhfuaradar do ghuth riamh dom aithne ní hiad do thuill. Binn a mbriathra gasta a nglór aicme rerab mór mo bháidh; a gcáineadh is mairg nár loc; mairg adeir olc ris na mnáibh. Ní dhéanaid fionghal ná feall, ná ní ar a mbeith grainc ná gráin; ní sháraighid cill ná clog; mairg adeir olc ris na mnáibh. Ní tháinig riamh acht ó mhnaoi easbag ní rí dearbhtha an dáil, ná príomhfháidh ar nách biadh locht; mairg adeir olc ris na mnáibh. Agá gcroidhe bhíos a ngeall; ionmhain leó duine seang slán, fada go ngeabhdaois a chol; mairg adeir olc ris na mnáibh. Duine aesaidh leathan liath ní hé a mian dul' na dháil; annsa leó an buinneán óg bocht; mairg adeir olc ris na mnáibh! |
Speak not ill of womenkind 'Tis no wisdom if you do, You that fault with women find I would not be praised of you. Sweetly speaking, witty clear Tribe most lovely to my mind, Blame of women I hate to hear Speak not ill of womenkind. Bloody treason, murderous act Not by women were designed. Bells o'erthrown nor churches sacked Speak not ill of womenkind. Bishop, King upon his throne, Primate skilled to loose and bind Sprung of women every one Speak not ill of womenkind. For a brave young fellow Hearts of women oft have pinned, Who would dare their love to wrong? Speak not ill of womenkind. Paunchy greybeards never more Hope to please a woman's mind, Poor young Chieftains they adore Speak not ill of womenkind. |
|
|