Dán do Lara, 10

Le Mícheál Ó hAirtneide

Fuinseog trí thine

gruaig do chinn

ag mealladh fuiseoige

le do ghlór binn

i bhféar glas,

is scata nóiníní

ag súgradh leat,

is scata coiníní

ag damhsa leat,

an lon dubh

is a órghob

mar sheoid leat,

lasair choille

is a binneas

mar cheol leat.

Is cumhracht tusa,

is mil, is sú talún:

ceapann na beacha féin

gur bláth sa pháirc thú.

A bhanríon óg thír na leabhar

go raibh tú mar seo go deo

go raibh tú saor i gcónaí

ó shlabhra an bhróin

Seo mo bheannacht ort, a chailín,

is is tábhachtach mar bheannú é –

go raibh áilleacht anama do mháthar leat

is áilleacht a gné.

A Poem for Lara, 10

By Mícheál Ó hAirtneide

An ashtree on fire

the hair of your head

coaxing larks

with your sweet voice

in the green grass,

a crowd of daisies

playing with you,

a crowd of rabbits

dancing with you,

the blackbird

with its gold bill

is a jewel for you,

the goldfinch

with its sweetness

is your music.

You are perfume,

you are honey,

a wild strawberry:

even the bees think you

a flower in the field.

Little queen of the land of books,

May you always be thus,

May you ever be free

from sorrow-chains.

Here's my blessing for you, girl,

and it is no petty grace –

may you have the beauty of your mother's soul

and the beauty of her face.