Deși unele texte sunt a bit heavy on the Jesus, câteva mi se pare că au o calitate neobișnuită care le apropie cumva de haiku. Mai jos, exemplele care mi s-au părut memorabile (toate sunt traduse din irlandeza veche):
Bell
Little bell
clinking through the gusty night:
sweeter your call
than a wanton girl's moan of delight.
sec. ix, trad. Patrick Crotty
Mo Ling's Way
When I find myself with the elders
I lay down the law against fun;
when I wind up with the clubbers
I go-go like the youngest one.
sec. x, trad. Patrick Crotty
Advice to Lovers
The way to get on with a girl
Is to drift like a man in a mist,
Happy enough to be caught,
Happy to be dismissed.
Glad to be out of her way,
Glad to rejoin her in bed,
Equally grieved or gay
To learn that she's living or dead.
trad. Frank O'Connor
[Isém linn indiu]
Such a lovely day
I pause to let the sun's rays
illuminate my page
sec ix, trad. Maurice Riordan
Sliabh Cua
cold mountain rough feral black
wolves and winds howl in its glens
howl about its high places
the stag bellows in autumn
in bewilderment of gold
herons sit by its waters
sec. ix, trad. Thomas A. Clark
Ca bonus, câteva versuri din viziunile lui Mac Conglinne, un fel de Parpangel irlandez ceva mai erudit:
We reached a fabulous fort
with ramparts of thick custard
on the other side of the water.
A drawbridge made of fresh butter,
the embankment of harvest wheat,
the palisades of juicy rashers.
[...]
the stringy drapes of dry meat,
over a threshold of croutons.
Its wall was made of cottage cheese.
[...]
There was a well of wine at the back
and a stream of mead and mulled ale.
No tastier watering hole.
There were hops for brewing stout.
On top of all that was a spring of malt
brimming from the floor.
sec. xi, trad. Greg Delanty
