Mé Gaoth ar Muir (Prehistoric)

Amhairghin Glúngheal

Mé gaoth ar muir

Mé tonn díleann

Mé glór mara

Mé damh seacht gcomhrac

Mé fiolar ar fhaill

Mé deor drúchta faoin ngréin

Me áilleacht fáis

Mé torc ar ghail

Mé bradán sa linn

Mé loch ar mhá

Mé dún sléibhe

Mé suí eagna

Mé ga faoi bhua ag slaí sa chath

Mé dia a adhnann tine sa cheann

Cé a dheineann réidh clochán sléibhe?

Cé a chaitheann solas ar chruthanna na gealaí?

Cé fhógraíonn cá luífidh an ghrian?

Cé a threoraíonn na tonnta mar bha na mara?

Cé air a shoilsíonn na tonnta sin?

Cén dream, cén dia a dheineann faobhar i ndún ailse?

Caoineadh na nga. Caoineadh na gaoithe.

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I am wind on sea

I am wave swelling

I am ocean’s voice

I am stag of seven clashes

I am falcon on cliff

I am sunlit dewdrop

I am rarest of herbs

I am boar enraged

I am salmon in pool

I am lake in plain

I am fortified hilltop

I am learning’s essence

I am sharpened spear dealing death

I am a god who kindles fire in the head.

Who makes smooth the stony mountain?

Who elucidates the lives of the moon?

Who proclaims where the sun will rest?

Who leads the waves like cattle from the ocean?

On whom do those waves smile?

What troop, what god edges blades in a plague-struck fortress?

Keening of weapons. Keening of wind.