Thread: I really like this humorous & colourful Irish poem, written before 1330AD. I’ve translated it from Old English to catch the satire. It’s a distinctly Anglo-Irish version of The Land of Cokaygne & pokes fun at the sexual shenanigans of Gaelic religious life.
The young monks, each day
After meat, go to play
There’s no hawk, no cock so swift
That flys up high or does uplift

Than the monks in good mood
With each their sleeves & their hood
When the Abbot sees the flight
It’s to his certain true delight
Yet even as this goes on
He calls them down, to evensong
The airborne monks do not alight
Flying on, where they might

When the abbot this does see
- That his monks from him flee
He takes a maid, from those attending
And presents aloft her fair up-ending
And thrums her arse-cheeks with his hand
To entice his monks to alight & land
When the religious this beating spy
Towards the lass, down they fly

And around her they do steer
And drum upon her milky rear
And when their toil & journey end
Meekly home, parched, they wend
And then they go off again to dine
A pious procession, none so fine
Another abbey nearby be
A fine substantial nunnery

With a river of pure sweet milk
Plus there’s lots of under-silk
And on each hot summer day
Young nuns with their craft do play
And out on the river they do steer
With oars & whatnot other gear
When far from abbey oversight
They strip naked with delight

And dive below the waters brim
Too cleverly they do swim
The young monks that this espy
Rise up & out, excited fly
And when they the sisters reach
The brothers grab one woman each
Quickly taken to their faith
In the abbey grey & great

And teach the nuns true devotion
Arms & legs; spirited motion
The monk that will be set to stud
Will keep erect his cassocks good
He shall have, it is clear
A dozen wives every year
Not by blessing but by right
Taking pleasure through the night

And he’s the monk that slumbers deep
Muscles tired he earns his sleep
It is said, there is hope
One day he’ll wear the Abbot’s cope
Thanks to an anonymous benefactor I’m able to offer a limited number of drawings at a price that everyone can afford. Two original works for just €50/£45. My work celebrates the nature & culture of Ireland. Take your pick! https://twitter.com/robertbohan/status/1262427316539609088
I translated the poem with a small bit of license, so if you’re an expert on Hiberno-English or Old English or indeed promiscuous clerics let’s just agree that I tried my best (it’s 30y since I studied the lingo! 😳) but you would have done better 😉
You can follow @RobertBohan.
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