RIANTA
2022
(Voice and piano) 7'
POEM
Rianta
Ailbhe Ní Ghearbhuigh
do Jean McConville agus laenaí Áras na Máithreacha i dTuaim
Fadó,
le péint is trí ghreanadh,
ócar buí is dearg,
gualach liathdhubh,
d’fhág daoine a lorg i bpluaiseanna:
íomhánna de thairbh is de chapaill,
de bhíosúin is d’fhianna,
imlíne a gcuid lámh rianaithe
ag fir is ag mná.
Tá ealaín charraige
sa tírín seo againne, leis,
poncanna is bíseanna,
fiarláin is línte corracha.
Faightear dealbhóireacht, freisin,
ceardaíocht dhorcha ar fud an oileáin.
Máthair deichniúr páistí
ar leithinis Chuaille.
Blaoscanna is cnámha beaga,
beaga, bídeacha.
Rianta balbha ár n-aineolais,
Fianaise ár gcur i gcéill,
Ár gcur faoi cheilt.
MEDBH McGUCKIAN
Stains
for Jean McConville and the children of the Maternity Home, Tuam
Long ago,
with paint and inscription,
with yellow and red ochre,
with midgrey charcoal,
people would leave their mark in underground caves:
carvings of bulls and horses,
bison and deer,
engravings of their own hands
printed by men and women.
We have our own
stonework also
in this small country of ours,
dots and spirals,
zigzags and crooked lines.
Even sculpture can be unearthed,
dark patterns throughout the island.
Mother of ten children
On the Cooley peninsula.
Skulls and miniature bones,
dumb reminders of our ignorance,
witness to our makebelieve,
The buried footsteps.
