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Laethanta Lagmhisnigh
Admhaím corrlá
bím traochta
dá cosaint os comhair an tsaoil

Bím bréan de bheith fréamhaithe
cois leapan
na teangan éignithe
seo
ag guí biseach uirthi
á faire go cúramach
ag impí beatha inti arís

Is nuair a chím
a cnámha lofa
ag cailciú
tuigim
ná beidh fágtha
lá éigin
ach smúit bhalbh . . .

ach an oiread liom féin.
When One Despairs
Some days, let’s admit it,
I tire
of rallying to her defence

I weary of being rooted
here by her bedside
this language
that has been violated
hoping she’ll come around
watching her assiduously
wishing the life back into her again

And when I see
her rotting bones
calcifying
I know that
one day
there will be nothing left
nothing but dust, mute . . .
like myself, come to think of it.