trí huaire
(ar a laghad)
gach oíche,
cuirim láimh
sceimhlithe
led ghorún teolaí

mar a chuirfeadh
leanbh leath-
chois eaglach
ar urlár na mara
is é ag snámh

díreach
lena chinntiú
nach bhfuil sé
rófhada amach
ón dtráigh mhór go bhfuil
talamh tirim
féna bhrionglóidí
róin.


Shocked three times—at least—per night,
I stretch to earth my hand
on your drowsy haunch.
As a swimming child might sink one leg
To touch the bottom of the ocean floor
And, with a frightened foot, secure

Against a drifting from the solid strand
And the groundlessness of a dream,
amphibious.

–Translated by Fintan O’Higgins