An File Dall:

Dánta scríofa i Rang 6, Meán Fómhair, 2010

 

 

The Blind Poet


I am a poet
Yet I am blind
I have no way.
All is darkness
I hear the play of children,
The sounds of the waves below
But I see no beautiful colours
No clear blue sky

Thoughts swirl in my mind
Like a storm
I bring my poems around your homes
For a bite to eat
A place to stay.
I get no comfort,
No praise
Somehow I keep alive
Travelling by sound.

Sinéad Price

 

 

The Blind Poet

My name is Raifteirí.

I can't see,
But I know a lot
of things that you
may not know.

I am very different
from everyone else.
I like writing poetry
because it is my thing.
I also like to sing.

Why did God pick me?

Sophie C

 

 

An File Dall

Raifteirí is ainm dom
Níl mé in ann féachaint
Ach tá a fhios agam
Faoi rudaí nach bhfuil a fhios agat.

Feicim rudaí
Nach bhfeiceann tú
Tá mé difriúil do gach duine eile.
Is maith liom filíocht
Mar is é mo rud.
Ach rud eile is maith liom
Ná canadh
Cén fáth gur phioc Dia
MISE?

Sophie C

 

 

The Blind Poet

I am Blind
Nothing to do
But sit here all day
With darkness in my heart
In my head too
I hear people munching, crunching.
I sit here,
Not even watching
As they walk by
But guess what?
No hello
I cry, I moan
I hear people say
He sits there and groans
I go home lie in my bed
Thinking people have problems.
If they were in my life
They would know
What a real problem is!

Marcus ó Maoldomhnaigh

 

 

An Fear Dall

Braithim le mo shrón,
Le mo chluas,
Le mo bhlas,
Agus le mo mhothúchain.

Ach níl mé in ann
Aon rud a fheiceáil
Mar tá mé dall.

Ag súil leis an lá
Nuair atá mé in ann
Feacháint ar:

Bhogha báistí draíochta
Nó luí na gréine álainn
Ag glioscarnach faoin uisce.
Ach tá mé dall...
...agus beidh mé i gconaí.

Ellie

 

 


 

 

The Blind Poet

I am a blind old man,
I spend my time,
Wishing to see,
My biggest dream,
To see a rainbow,
But all I see,
Is a misty grey and black,
I wish for sight,
I wish for light,
And you people,
Take it for granted.

Aoibhín Nic Siúrtáin

 

 

 

I Am The Blind Poet

I am the blind poet,
I wish I could see,
A rainbow,
A sunset,
The children playing.

I walk down streets
I hear everything,
Seagulls crying,
Insects rustling,
Waves on the sea.

At night time,
I am lonely,
But when I awake,
There's sound to comfort.
I'll walk streets again.

Ciara Ní Mhurchú

 

 

 

Is Mise File Dall

Is mise file dall
Ba bhreá liom rudaí a fheiceáil
Bogha báistí,
Luí na gréine,
Na páistí ag súgradh.

Siúlaim síos sráid.
Cloisim gach rud,
Faoileáin ag caoineadh,
Feithidí ag siosarnach,
Tonnta na farraige.

Nuair a thagann an oíche,
Táim uaigneach
Brón i mo chroí

Ach, nuair a dhúisím
Maidin nua,
Fuaim arís,
Fuaim chompardach, mo chara
Siúlaim na sráideanna arís

Ciara Ní Mhurchú

 

 

 

The Blind Poet

I'm a soul without any sight,
20 years I had a thought,
Of colours red and green,
I am a poet without a doubt,
Writing this and saying that,

I am not famous,
I have a wife and kids,
They all enjoy the soothing sound,
Of their poet singing.

My kids at school,
My wife at work,
I am lonely at home,
Writing a poem to you.

Darragh Ó Donnaile

 

 

 

An File Dall

Is file dall mé

Táim i mo chónaí ar an tsráid,
Níl aon airgead agam,
Ach tá bia agam,
Seinnim ceol,
Oíche agus lae,
Seinnim le haghaidh na daoine,
Ag cabhrú na droch smaointe,
Imíonn siad.

Éistim le na cailíní eile,
Ag caint, ag súgradh,
Agus ag gáire,
I mo bhrionglóid is fearr, ta mé le na cailíní sin,
Guím go mbeidh cabhair, leaba agus pilliúr
Is file mé
File dall

Éabha Ní Eosaigh

 

 

 

An File Dall

Ní féidir liom féachaint,
Mar tá mé dall,
Téim tríd fuaim,
De daoine agus ceol,
Ag iarraidh feiceáil,
Cad tá timpeall.

Táim ag iarraidh taisteal,
Dánta a scríobh,
Iad a aithris is a chanadh,
Nuair shuím anseo,
Ag scríobh duit,
Ag iarraidh mo shaol taisteal,
A bheith fior duit.

Eibhlín Ní Mhóráin

 

 

 

 

The Blind Poet

Darkness
Endless darkness
A noise, a sound
My only guide
Stuck inside the labyrinth
Of my head

No sight,
No path,
No purpose,
The life of a blind man

Words swirl around my
Fragile mind
My only light
Easing the nightmare

My only purpose...
The music...
The words...
My Life.

Ethan ó Ciardha

 

 

 

An File Dall

Dorchadas
Dorchadas gan críoch
Torann éigin
Fothram beag
An t-aon treoraí agam
Tá mé greamaithe sa lúbra
I mo cheann.

Gan radharc,
Gan sráid ,
GAN AIDHM,
AN SAOL DEN FHEAR DALL.

FOCAIL AG SNÁMH,
ISTIGH I MO CHEANN,
AN T-AON SOLAS,
AN T-AON DÓCHAS,
DON DROMLAÍ UAFÁSACH.

AN CEOL...
NA FOCAIL....
MO SHAOL.

Ethan ó Ciardha

 

 

 

The Blind Poet

Nothing at all
No light no colours
Just darkness in my eyes
Want to see
Why me?

I have no friends
I feel alone

I would just like to see
Anything with colour
This is not fair

Isla Ní Bhrádaigh

 

 


An File Dall


Tá mé dall
Gan an domhan a fheiceáil
Níl aon dath
Ach dubh

An ghrian a fheicéail…
An féar a fheicéail…
Crann a fheiceáil…
Brionglóid

Níl saol agam…
Níl dath…
Níl áilleacht…
Ach dubh

Kealan Ó Fionnáin

 

 

 

Dall san Afraic

An faiche féarach
Na tithe déanta as dóib
An t-ocras uafásach
N í fheicim…
Mothaím
Deacair le fanacht beo
In Ethiopia, gan aon solas
Ní féidir liom aon radharc a thabhairt
Níl aon rud le déanamh agam
Ar an domhan seo
Botún ag Dia
Cén fáth mise ?
Is corp mé: sin é
Níl aon súil agam le pléisiúr
Tá mé ag iarraidh rud a fheiceáil
An gcloiseann sibh mé?
Déithe i mo shaol.
Táim ag iarraidh damhsa timpeall an tine campa
Ach ní féidir liom mar tá mé dall

Marcas Balaski

 

 

Blind in Africa

The grassy grasslands
The muddy mud huts
The horrible hunger
I`ve never seen
I`ve had to feel
Ethiopia, hard place to live
Especially as I have no sight to give
I`m pointless
Just a misplacement of the gods
Why me?
I`m just a body
With no eyes to enjoy
Can`t you hear me gods?
I do so wish I could see
I would dance around the campfire
But I can`t because I`m blind

Marcas Balaski

 

 

File Dall

Dall an saol go léir.
Níl aon rud le feiceáil
Ag iarraidh lá éigin
Le rud éigin a fheiceáil
Ach mé ag suí ansin
Ag iarraidh rud éigin
Duine éigin
Chun cabhrú liom.
Fuí amháin bogha báistí
Luí na gréine
Nó crann a fheiceáil
Ach mé ag suí ansin

Ceapaim go bhfeicim rud éigin!
Duine éigin!
Tógaim céim níos gaire...
ach níl ann ach ceo dubh agus liath

Niamh Ní Éanacháin

 

 

 

The Blind Poet

I am a blind poet
Blind since birth
All I want
Is to see some sunshine

Twelve years being blind
Oh why am I am blind?
Why was it me?
Oh God why was it me?

All day I think
What I could do
Being out-side doing
What ever children do

Why did God pick me?

Roibéard Ó Fallúin

 

 

 

An File Dall

Is file dall mé
Dall ó rugadh
An rud amháin atá mé ag iarraidh
Ná an ghrian a fheiceáil sa spéir

Dó dheag bliain dall
Cén fath a bhfuil mé dall?
Cén fath mise?
Oh mo dhia cén fath mise?

An lá ar fad ag smaoineamh
Céard a bheidh mé in ann deánamh
Muna mbeinn mé dall?
Oh cén fath mise?

Cén fath a phioc Dia mise?

Roibéard Ó Fallúin

 

 

An File Dall

Cén fáth gur phioc Dia mise?
Rugadh mé dall
Agus beidh mé i gcónaí

Na rudaí gur chaill mé
Mór is beag
Gnath rudaí sa saol
Nach bhfeicim riamh

Tá ocras ar mo shúile
Le haghaidh luí na gréine
Nó clár teilifíse
Cén fáth gur phioc Dia mise?

Stiofán Ó Marcaigh


 

The Blind Poet

I am The Blind Poet,
Wandering down the road,
The country is my home,
Poetry is my living,
Blindness is my curse,
No sight to help me,
With my fiddle by my side,
I play for my food,
my drink, my bed.
Exciting sound of clapping,
In a sweet fiddler's dream.
My life began like this,
In a small Mayo town.

Maitiú Winfield

 

 

 

 

An File Dall

Táim anseo, liom féin,
Múchtha sa síordhorchadas,
Ag fanacht ar an lá a éirím,
Go dtí an breac soilsiú,

Ar an tsráid, ag iarraidh airgid,
Ag aithris filiocht 's ceol,
Daoine saibhre ag siúl thart,
Ró-ghalánta chun pingin a spártha leo,

Ag luí ansin ocrasach agus caillte,
Seanfhear bocht, ró-lag chun maireachtáil.

Ciara Nic Lochnáin

 

 

The Blind Poet

Here I am, on my own,
Smothered in eternal darkness,
Awaiting the day I rise above
Into the dappling sunlight.

On the streets, I beg for money,
Whilst reciting my poems and stories,
Wealthy people passing by,
Too grand to spare a penny,

As I lie there, hungry and lost,
An old, blind man,
Too weak to go on.

Ciara Nic Lochnáin

 

 

The Blind Poet

I am a blind man
With no light or path,
Just my wooden stick
To guide me my life.

The poems I write
When I am home alone,
Wish for sight
Of a beautiful rainbow.

I feel so cold
Wandering down the street,
Wishing I could have sight
To see the colours of the world.

Gráinne

 

 


An File Dall

Fear dall mé
Gan solas nó slí,
Tada ach mo bhata adhmaid
Chun treoir a thabhairt dom.

Na dánta a scríobhaim
Nuair atá mé sa bhaile liom féin,
Ag súil le radharc
Le bogha báistí.

Táim an-fhuar
Ag seachránach síos an tsráid,
Ag súil go mbeidh mé in ann
Dathanna an domhain a fheiceáil.

Gráinne

 

 

An File Dall

Táim dall
Chomh dall le sciathán leathair
Céard le déanamh
Cad a dhéanfaidh mé
Mo bhata fuar crua
Ní fheachaim solas
Braithim ar rudaí
Ba breá liom tuiscint.
Chaill mé mo bhean chéile agus Maggie bhocht
Cloisim é ag crónán san oíche
Agus ba bhreá liom mo bhean chéile
An t-amhrán seo a chloisteáil.

 

Michaela ní Mhaoldomhnaigh

 


The Blind Poet

I am blind
Blind as a bat
What to do
What can I do?
My cold hard stick
I can't see light
As I feel things
And wonder with all my might
I've lost my wife and poor little Maggie
I miss her purring in the night
And my wife
I'd love for her to hear my poem.

Michaela ní Mhaoldomhnaigh

 

 

 

The Blind Poet

I lie here in the snow
Hearing cars, people and bikes
Going into town
To do their Christmas shopping
Buying presents for their loved ones
None thinking of the blind man
That is lying in the snow

I lie here in the snow
I smell a turkey
Roasting in an oven
People unwrapping presents
Surrounded by their loved ones

All I have for company
Is the darkness
As I lie here in the snow

Stiofán

 

 

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