Agus na laethanta eile sin
-- nach raibh de théad cheangail eadrainn
ach eagla agus gá --
a chaitheamar ar an gcaolchuid
idir sliabh agus trá.

Thagainn chugat le mála lán
de scéalta anuas ón ard:
aiteann is fraoch agus rás
an damh dá fhiach isteach gan tlás
ag rúchladh leis i gcoinnibh fána
na coin ina dhiaidh cruinn ar a shála
gur fhas ar an damh dhá sciathán
is gur éalaigh uainn ina heala bhán,
mála folamh
lán go béal
d'ardscéalta.

An uair sin chínn na héanlaithe
ag éalú leo ód'shúile
ag triall ar thír thar sliabh do gualainne.

Aníos on gcaoláire
a thagtá led'mhála
lán de fhraoch na mara agus boladh na sáile,
eascanna ag lúbadh i sreanga na heangaí,
báid dá scriosadh ar charraigreacha feannta
is feamainn ag slíocadh gruaig na bhfear mbáite,
an t-uisce ag sciobadh uait síoda na hAráibe
is an taoide ag breith léi bairilli fíona na Spáinne.

Le gach focal ód'bhéal
an uair sin chínn arís ag éalú
éanlaithe, ag eitilt as raon do shúl.

Anseo i lár na ma dhúinn
tá fuacht nár bhraitheas raimh ar an ard sin
is nár bhraithis a déarfainn ag bun caoláire.
Tá fáil anseo ar lón go rábach,
ach chimse arís id'shúile scáthmhaire
éin ag éalú fé dhéin malairt muráithe.

Birdways
trans., Colm Breathnach

I used to come to you with a bag
full of stories down from the hill;
furze and heather and a race
the stag hunted down without stinting
rushing against the slope
the hounds hard on his heels
till two wings grew on the stag
and he flew from us, a white swan,
an empty bag
full to the mouth
of high-flown tales.

That time I saw the birds
flying from your eyes
heading for a land beyond your shoulder.

Up from the inlet
you'd come with your bag
full of the sea's fury and the brine smell,
eels writhing in the cords of the net
boats wrecked on stripping rocks,
and seaweed combing drowned men's locks
the water snatching the Arabian silk
the tide carrying off barrels of Spanish wine.

With each word you spoke
I saw the birds again that time
flying out of range of your eyes.

Here on the wide plains
there's a cold I never felt on my hill
nor you ever felt in the inlet I'd say.
There's food aplenty here for the taking
but I see again in your shy eyes
birds flying toward other skies.