AN TIGER KELTEK | THE CELTIC TIGER |
Pol Hodge | trans. Pol Hodge (from Cornish) |
(rag Alistair Quinnell) Mar pe Iwerdhon an ‘Tiger Keltek’ Kernow yw an gathik dhoev Neb eth dhe gosk Ryb toemmder an tan Sowsnek. Hag Iwerdhon ow helghya dres Europ Kernow a rol war hy heyn hi Dhe vos kosys gans bysyow konteth. Ha’n garm gwydhalek klywys yn Amerika Hy krowdans yw kellys dhe Westminster Heb skovarn ha hen kolonn. Hwath y’n gegin agan mester Hi a berth kov an oes Pan o hi tiger dens-kledha Gans ewines lymm a sten, Dens meur gwrys a gober Hag ow helghya dres an bys. |
(for Alistair Quinnell) If Ireland is the ‘Celtic Tiger’ Cornwall is the tamed pussy-cat Who went to sleep By the warmth of the English fire. As Ireland hunts through Europe Cornwall rolls on her back To be tickled by County fingers. As the Gaelic roar is heard in America Her purring is lost to a Westminster. Without ear or heart. Still in the kitchen of our master She remembers the age When she was a Sabre-tooth tiger With sharp claws of tin, Great teeth wrought of copper And hunting the world. |
Copyright © Pol Hodge 1996 - publ. Giss 'on Books