Brightest of beings
In sun-surprised February
Flower out of season
You illuminate the night
A falling star
Shower after shower
My sky is empty now

You are in me



Taoi ionam

A bhé luisneach
A ghrian gan choinne i mí Feabhra
A bhláth roimh am
Soilsíonn Tú an oíche
Titeann Tú Id réalta reatha
Sprais i ndiaidh spraise
Is tá mo spéirse anois lom

Taoi ionam

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice—
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do—
determined to save
the only life you could save.

If love can be withdrawn
It never was

My love for you is not a gift
    To you
      It is a gift
        To me

The **** is crowing,
The stream is flowing,
The small birds twitter,
The lake doth glitter
      The green field sleeps in the sun;
The oldest and youngest
Are at work with the strongest;
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising;
      There are forty feeding like one!

Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
      The plowboy is whooping—anon-anon:
There’s joy in the mountains;
There’s life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing;
      The rain is over and gone!