inglés
Aubade
Is cuma leis an mhaidin cad air a ngealann sí —
ar na cáganna ag bruíon is ag achrann ins na crainn
dhuilleogacha; ar an mbardal glas ag snámh go tóstalach
i measc na ngiolcach ins na curraithe; ar thóinín bán
an chircín uisce ag gobadh aníos as an bpoll portaigh;
ar roilleoga ag siúl go cúramach ar thránna móra.
Is cuma leis an ghrian cad air a n-éiríonn sí —
ar na tithe bríce, ar fhuinneoga de ghloine snoite
is gearrtha i gcearnóga Seoirseacha: ar na saithí beach
ag ullmhú chun creach a dhéanamh ar ghairdíní
bruachbhailte;
ar lánúine óga fós ag méanfach i gcomhthiúin is fonn
a gcúplála ag éirí aníos iontu; ar dhrúcht ag glioscarnach
ina dheora móra ar lilí is ar róiseanna; ar do ghuaille.
Ach ní cuma linn go bhfuil an oíche aréir
thart, is go gcaithfear glacadh le pé rud a sheolfaidh
an là inniu an tslí; go gcaithfear imeacht is cromadh síos
arís is píosaí beaga brealsúnta ár saoil a dhlúthú
le chéile ar chuma éigin, chun gur féidir
lenár leanaí uisce a ól as babhlaí briste
in ionad as a mbosa, ní cuma linne é.
De: Feis
Dublin: An Sagart Má Nuat, 1991
Horizon
age threads through the horizon
accompanied by white seagulls
and the whirr of the wind
now the time has arrived
to contemplate the dusk
nobody can escape
the mirror of the self
however one postpones
the challenge of the heart
time does not pass
even at the setting of the sun
because that which charges to the front
or stumbles to the back
is humanity
existence is agony
when duty
tugs at the base of the heart
choices make us human beings
human beings make choices
a guessing game
age is an assemblage
of empty hopes
and fears
reaching into
the nebulous night
the freedom of the soul
is the breath of maturity
age demands wise choices
walking the line of moderation
between necessities and awards
between desires and thrones
perfection
has never diminished
any of life’s tracks
the golden dusk
is the transition
between darkness and light
balancing mist and dust
that is dispersed
in a tempestuous wind
happiness and sorrow alternate
storms and stillness take turns
life is conflicts and couplings
spirit and flesh
the wide sky and the silent sea
transcending the shores of time
towards a new world
in the nimbleness and quietness
of the waves that pursue
it will always happen
the truth will always be questioned
each crash of the waves
will create
a new shoreline
a day certain that
we have never witnessed
the same horizon
we are infants
who will cry
when abandoned
by yesterday’s experiences
or an old man
who will grieve
when accompanied by
the silence of the day
nearing the end of age
the sea
is a valediction
of eternal love
age threads through the horizon
tomorrow’s seagull sails on the wind
yesterday’s wind greets the seagull
fly with the seagull
whirr with the wind
and catch the light
of today