(Vertaling / Translation) Aifric Mac Aodha Nairciseas Narcissus Samhradh 1998 do M.   Ar an mbus dom, Mé leath im' chodladh, Ghread géaga an Gheimhridh De liathgheit in éadan Na fuinneoga taobh liom.   Ach aismseoidh mé Bóthar ciúin go fóill, Áit nach mbéarfaidh Na crannchrúba caola A ngreím géar orm.   Seasfaidh mé le Nairciseas Sa log ina bhfasann An tsaileach fhalsa, Ar an mbruach sábháilte, Mé faoi choimirce na mbláthanna.   'S fad is a dhéanann an abhainn Gabháil gan ghrá Le croíthe dochta na gcloch, Bainfidh mise lán mo shúl As mo scáil féin sa sruth.   Mar nach ann do rud ar bith Lasmuigh díomsa A scanróidh as an suan seo Arís mé.   Summer 1998 To M   On a bus once, as I half-slept, sudden winter branches whipped against the pane. Grey wakeners.   Still I will discover a quiet path, a place where tree limbs cannot clench me.     I will stand beside Narcissus, in a hollow of indolent willows, on a safe bank, where flowers will conceal me.   And as long as the water engages in a loveless embrace with stones held rigid, I will stare at my own reflection in the river.   Oh I will discover a quiet road yet, for from now on there will be nothing, nothing outside myself to unsettle me. © Aifric Mac Aodha