Pàdraig MacAoidh

gaélico escocés

Peter MacKay

inglés

Ann an Cordoba

Fhad ’s a bhios mi a’ feitheamh, deiseil, lem chamara
gus an leig thu le do ròb tuiteam dhan làr

bidh mi a’ smaoineachadh air planntachas giuthais duirch
air a chuartachadh le feansa shaltraichte

gàire on dàrna ùrlar ’s plathadh de chraicinn
bhàn-donn air cùl nan siutairean

lìon-anart geal a’ crochadh o fhor-uinneagan
ann am mìltean de dhùradain

mìog chabach ann an dubhair nan clabhstairean
fàileadh iadh-luis a’ grodadh sa phatio,

’s bheanainn riut, a ghràidh, le barr mo mheòirean:
dh’fhàgainn làraich corraigean nar n-allas air a’ bhalla.

© Pàdraig MacAoidh (Peter MacKay)
De: unpublished
Producción de Audio: Literaturwerkstatt Berlin, 2014

In Cordoba

While I am waiting with my camera ready
for you to let your robe fall to the floor,

I will think of plantations of pine dark
and surrounded by a trodden-down fence

a laugh from the second floor, a glimpse of skin
dun-fair through the shutters

white linen hanging from white balconies
through thousands of dust motes

gap-toothed smiles in the shadows of cloisters,
the smell of milk-thistle rotting in patios

and I would touch you, my love, at arm’s length,
leave prints in our sweat on the walls.

Translated by the author