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Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill was born in 1952 in Lacashire. She has won numerous international awards, and her works have been translated into French, German, Polish, Italian, Norwegian, Estonian, Japanese, and English. She has the distinction of being one of the few women poets who writes exclusively in Irish and has been praised for her efforts to revitalize the Irish language in modern poetry. She is a member of Aosdána and the recipient of the 1988 O’Shaughnessy Award for Poetry and the 1991 American Ireland Fund Literary Award.

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The Mermaid in the Hospital
by Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill

She awoke
to find her fishtail
clean gone
but in the bed with her
were two long, cold thingammies.
You'd have thought they were tangles of kelp
or collops of ham.

"They're no doubt
taking the piss,
it being New Year's Eve.
Half the staff legless
with drink
and the other half
playing pranks.
Still, this is taking it
a bit far."
And with that she hurled
the two thingammies out of the room.

But here's the thing
she still doesn't get—
why she tumbled out after them
arse-over-tip...
How she was connected
to those two thingammies
and how they were connected
to her.

It was the sister who gave her the wink
and let her know what was what.
"You have one leg attached to you there
and another one underneath that.
One leg, two legs...
A-one and a-two...
Now you have to learn
what they can do."

In the long months
that followed,
I wonder if her heart fell
the way her arches fell,
her instep arches.

Translated from the Irish by Paul Muldoon

Translator Notes:
I translate Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill's poems for one very simple reason: I want to read them, and translation is the very closest form of reading of which we may avail ourselves. I studied Irish at school but am now very much out of the way of it, so the act of translation forces me to try to come to terms with one of the most interesting bodies of work in contemporary poetry. "The Mermaid in the Hospital" is just one of a series of poems by Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill which I'm translating under the general title of The Fifty Minute Mermaid. As that title might suggest, these poems feature mer-folk who are at odds with themselves, psychologically as much as physically, in their dry land existences and are trying to make sense of their own translated lives.

One or two textual notes. The Irish phrase "Oiche na Coda Moire," translated here as "New Year's Eve," means "the night of the large portion" and refers to the custom of feasting at New Year's in the hope of staving off fasting in the coming year. But there may be a bilingual pun on the word "cod," in the fish sense, which might make a meal for the mer-folk. The rather indelicate phrase "arse-over-tip" is a lot less indelicate than the original, "cocs-um-bo-head," a macaronic construction including a play on a slang term for the male member. —P.M.


 
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