Balada irlandesa

Gerhard Richter 1977

 Aquesta balada irlandesa apareix a Dubliners de James Joyce:

‘The Lass of Aughrim’

If you be the lass of Aughrim
As I am taking you mean to be
Tell me the first token
That passed between you and me.

The rain falls on my yellow locks
And the dew it wets my skin;
My babe lies cold within my arms:
Lord Gregory let me in.

Oh Gregory, don’t you remember
One night on the hill,
When we swapped rings off each other’s hands,
Sorely against my will?
Mine was of the beaten gold,
Yours was but black tin.

Oh if you be the lass of Aughrim,
As I suppose you not to be
Come tell me the last token
That passed between you and me.

Oh Gregory don’t you remember
One night on the hill
When we swapped smocks off each other’s backs,
Sorely against my will?
Mine was of the Holland fine,
Yours was but scotch cloth.

 

Possible traducció:

‘La noia d'Aughrim’

Si ets la noia d'Aughrim
com em sembla que dius ser,
diga'm quina fou la darrera penyora
que vam intercanviar.

La pluja cau sobre els meus rossos rínxols
i la rosada em mulla la pell;
la meva criatura jeu freda en els meus braços;
Lord Gregory, deixeu-me entrar.

Oh, Gregory, ¿no te'n recordes
una nit al pujol,
quan bescanviàrem els anells de les nostres mans,
certament contra la meva voluntat?
El meu era d'or batut,
el teu no era sinó de negre estany.

Oh, si ets la noia d'Aughrim,
com em sembla que no ets,
diga'm quina fou la darrera penyora
que vam intercanviar.

Oh, Gregory, ¿no te'n recordes
una nit al pujol,
quan bescanviàrem les bruses de les nostres espatlles,
certament contra la meva voluntat?
La meva era de pura holanda,
la teva no era sinó de drap escocès.