Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Bíonn An Fhírinne Searbh.

Tá mé codladh orm

Ag iarraidh codladh

Ach gan aon toradh

dom-ádh

 

Rugadh agus tógadh

leis dearcadh difriúil

lá i ndiadh lae

An grá mícheart

 

Is é mo chroí ag craoladh,

faoi grá

Ag muineadh dom nach,

faoi mná

 

Rachainn mé go dti an trá.

an alainn trá

Déarfainn mé Dia duit ar an buachaillín.

an alainn buachaillín

Mo muirnín.

 

Dhéanfainn mé seo, ach

Nuair a fháil i go dtí an trá,

Ní bheidh tú in ann.

Beidh mé san áit mícheart

ag an am mícheart.

 

Ní haon ionadh é mar

Ní féidir leat a shéanadh go bhfuil

mo chroí,

i gcónaí mícheart

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
aar505n
Published
Feb 8, 2015
Lines·Words
26·103
Notes

Is dán beag as Gaeilge. Tá roinnt earráidí ach cosúil leis an seanfhocal:

Is fearr Gaeilge briste, na Bearla cliste.

Bain sult as!

Tags
#love#heartbreak#depression#thoughts#deep#irish#ireland#languages#gaelige
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell aar505n how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write