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3AG / 3AG
3AG
'Gan dul amach,' a deireadh an Bräthair
Agus sult éigin collai 4 bhaint aige
As rialacha gramadai a chamadh.
Dheinimis iontas da c-anna séimhithe,
Da r-anna caola
Is bhi a chuid /-anna leathana ina gcrainnte
A leagan anuas orainn ag a theanga.
Chaith samhradh iomlän san Oileän Tiar
Ina dhéagôir: 'Sin i an Ghaoluinn sa tslänchruinne,
A stor,' is shéideadh a shrön Bhlascaodach
Ag baint suaitheadh as seomra 3AG uile.
Sheasadh uaireanta ag bun an ranga,
A leathar dubh go domhain i bpöca aibide:
'He's at the pocket billiards again!'
Is phléascadh na trithi trit shüile amach
Nö anuas do shrôn ...
Nuair a phög an leathar dubh
Do lamh, chuaigh arraing mhichéatfach trit lar
Is ghéaraigh ar an gcolg agat
Don Dia dioltasach dar thug sé é6més.
3AG
'Gan dul amach,'' the Brother would say,
Savouring a kind of carnal pleasure
From bending the grammar rules.
We marvelled at his aspirated c's,
His slender rs and his broad I's
Loomed like trees
Felled by his tongue.
As a boy he summered on the Great Blasket Island:
'It's they have the real Irish in its finest purity,'
Then he'd blow his Islandman nose
Sending tremors through room 3AG.
Standing at the back of the class sometimes
He'd poke his black strap deep into his habit pocket:
'He's at the pocket billiards again!"
And the stitches squeezed out through your eyes
Or down your nose.
When the black leather kissed
Your hand, an unmerciful hot stab shot through you,
Priming your rage against the Divine Bully
He called God.
"Go out not'