Nuala Ni Dhomhnaill
Stronghold
In your fortress arms
I will never die
I will fear no evil
Terror will not strike me
I will not hear
The creaking in the night
The loaded wheels
Moving through the battlefield.
A safe stronghold
Your arms around me
Your broad shoulders
Shielding me from fate
Finding me a shelter
From the keen wind of life—
There is a secret garden
Between your shoulderblades.
And in that garden
There are bees and olive-trees
There is honey on the rushes
And the trees all in flower
In the early Autumn
—Winter never comes there
And the frosty breezes
Never blow there at all.
And beyond our circle
There are countries, peoples
Fighting, founding dynasties
Multiplying on the globe
If the four corners
Of the earth were one flame
If the whole universe
Were to fizz and explode
I couldn't care, your arms
Still solid around me,
No place for terror
No room for hunger.
When you fold me
In your gentle embrace
I am as safe and sound
As that city on a mountain
Hold me in your strong
Conjuring circle
With the heat of your body
The warmed, sound frame,
Your skin on my skin
Mouth on my mouth firmly
I will not hear the wolves
Howling on the plain.
All things are temporary
In half an hour
You'll kiss my forehead
And turn away and sleep
Leaving me on my side
Of the double bed
Reminded of sudden death
And building a wall against fear.
--Irish; trans. Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin
Nuala Ni Dhomhnaill, Irish, trans. Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin, Pharaoh's Daughter, Wake Forest University Press, 1990.