Subh Milis – Séamus Ó Néill

Bhí subh milis,

Ar bhas-crann an dorais.

Ach mhúch mé an chorraí,

Ionam d’éirigh,

Mar smaoinigh mé ar an lá,

A bheas an bhas-crann glan.

Agus an lámh bheag,

Ar iarraidh.

There was jam,

On the door handle.

But I quenched the anger,

That rose inside of me,

For I thought of the day,

When the handle would be clean.

And the small hand

Missing.

Había mermalade,

En el pomo de la puerta.

Pero estinguí la ira

Que me subió,

Por pensar en el día

En que el pomo estaría limpio,

Y la mano pequeña,

Ausente.

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