Читать книгу Кельтские сумерки. Уровень 1 / The Celtic Twilight - Уильям Батлер Йейтс - Страница 9

I recently visited a small group of houses called Ballylee in County Galway, Ireland. It’s not big enough to be called a village, but its name is well-known in the west of Ireland. There is an old square castle called Ballylee, where a farmer and his wife live. There’s also a cottage where their daughter and son-in-law[53] live, and a small mill with an old miller. Last year, I went there a few times to talk to the miller about Biddy Early, a wise woman who lived in Clare years ago. I wanted to know about her saying, “There is a cure for all evil between the two mill-wheels of Ballylee,”. I visited again this summer, and I plan to go back before autumn because Mary Hynes, a beautiful woman whose name is still remembered, died there sixty years ago. An old man guided me away from the mill and the castle, down a narrow path covered in brambles and sloe bushes[54]. I talked to him about a poem in Irish that Raftery[55], a famous poet, wrote about her.

I first heard about the poem from an old woman who lives about two miles up the river. She remembers Raftery and Mary Hynes. She said, “I have never seen anyone as beautiful as she was, and I never will until I die.” She told me that Raftery was nearly blind and had no other way of making a living than going around and reciting poems.

She sang the poem to me and a friend in Irish, and every word was clear and expressive. My friend and I have translated parts of it, but some of it was translated by the local people.

An old weaver[59] says, “Mary Hynes was the most beautiful person ever. My mother used to tell me about her. She was always dressed in white and visited every hurling match. Eleven men asked her to be their wife in one day, but she said “no” to all of them. One night, some men were sitting together, drinking and talking about her. One of them decided to go to Ballylee and see her. However, he fell into Cloon Bog and was found dead the next morning. Mary died of fever before the famine.” An old woman from Derrybrien[60] recalls Mary. She says, “No one has ever been as beautiful as Mary. Her skin was so white that it looked blue, and she had two little blushes on her cheeks.” Another wrinkled woman living near Ballylee says, “I often saw Mary Hynes, and she was really beautiful. She had two curls on each cheek that were silver-colored. I also saw Mary Molloy, who drowned in the river, and Mary Guthrie from Ardrahan[61], but Mary Hynes was the most beautiful of them. She had seen too much of the world. She was a kind person. One day, I was walking through a field, feeling tired, and the Poisin Glegeal (the shining flower) appeared and gave me a glass of fresh milk.” A man by the shore in Kinvara[62], who is too young to remember Mary Hynes, says, “Everyone says there is no one as beautiful as her now. They say her hair was the color of gold. She was poor, but she always dressed nicely. If she attended any gathering, everyone would fight to catch a glimpse of her. Many people were in love with her, but she died young. It is said that anyone who has a song written about them won’t live long.”

People believe that those who are greatly admired are taken by the Sidhe (fairies). The admired and desired individuals are only safe if someone says “God bless them” when looking at them. The old woman who sang the song also believes that Mary Hynes was taken by the Sidhe. People from all over came to see her, and maybe some of them didn’t say “God bless her.” She died young because the gods loved her, as the Sidhe are considered gods. The old saying about her having seen too much of the world might refer to her manner of death in ancient times. These simple country people are much closer to the ancient Greek world that valued beauty more than our educated men. When they talk about her, they blame others and not her. Although they can be harsh, they become gentle, just like the old men of Troy became gentle when Helen passed by on the walls.

The poet who made Mary Hynes famous is also well-known in the west of Ireland. Some people think Raftery was partially blind and say, “I saw Raftery, a dark man, but he could still see her,” or something similar. Others believe he was completely blind, especially towards the end of his life. One day, I asked a man how Raftery could have admired Mary Hynes so much if he was completely blind. He replied, “I think Raftery was completely blind, but blind people have a way of seeing things. They have the power to know more, feel more, do more, and guess more than those with sight. They have a certain wit[63] and wisdom.” Everyone agrees that he was very wise because he was not only blind but also a poet. The weaver, who spoke about Mary Hynes earlier, says, “His poetry was a gift from God, for there are three things that are gifts from God: poetry, dancing, and principles. “ A man at Coole[64] adds, “When he touched a certain part of his head, everything would come to him as if it was written in a book.”

A friend of mine once met a man who was with Raftery when he died, but people say he died alone. Maurteen Gillane told Dr. Hyde that a light was seen going up to heaven from the roof of the house where Raftery lay all night long, and “those were the angels who were with him.” There was also a great light in the hovel[65] all night long, “and those were the angels keeping vigil[66] over him. They honored him because he was such a good poet and sang such religious songs.”

1900.

II

Once, in a town up north, I had a long conversation with a man who grew up in a nearby countryside when he was a boy. He shared with me that when a remarkably beautiful girl was born into a family that wasn’t known for good looks. Her beauty was believed to come from the fairies and was seen as a source of misfortune. He mentioned several names of beautiful girls he had known and said that beauty had never brought happiness to anyone. According to him, beauty was something to be proud of and afraid of. I wish I had written out his words at the time, for they were more picturesque than my memory of them.

1902.