Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Doireann Ní Ghríofa

Call

No slender thread,
                                   no telephone cord
binds us anymore.
Now that our computers call each other,
                        I can’t
press your voice to my ear.
No longer can I hear you breathe. Now, we are bound only
by a weak connection
and we break              up
             and break up
                         and break up.

Glaoch

Glaoch

Ní cheanglaíonn
                        aon chorda caol,
aon sreang theileafóin sinn níos mó.
I réimse na ríomhairí,
            ní thig liom
do ghuth a bhrú níos gaire do mo chluas.
Ní chloisim tú ag análú. Anois, ’sé an líne lag seo
           an t-aon cheangal amháin atá eadrainn
agus titimid
                      as a chéile
            arís
                      is
            arís eile.
Close

Call

No slender thread,
                                   no telephone cord
binds us anymore.
Now that our computers call each other,
                        I can’t
press your voice to my ear.
No longer can I hear you breathe. Now, we are bound only
by a weak connection
and we break              up
             and break up
                         and break up.

Call

No slender thread,
                                   no telephone cord
binds us anymore.
Now that our computers call each other,
                        I can’t
press your voice to my ear.
No longer can I hear you breathe. Now, we are bound only
by a weak connection
and we break              up
             and break up
                         and break up.

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
Literature Translation Institute of Korea
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère