May

You are not the time of birth
but of its opposite;

your rending winds,
glasses falling from our hands
at the sight of you,

pains sprouting and blooming,
within us, in silent toxicity.

You gulp existences
with your indifferent, scattered rains.

You switch off lives
with one glare
from your unnatural eye.

You excrete the Lamb of God
who takes away the sin of the world.

Have mercy on us.

Bealtaine

Bealtaine

Ní mí na breithe tú
ach mí an bháis

séideann stolladh gaoithe,
titeann gloine as lámh
i do láthair

brúchtann tú breoiteacht
go ciúin, binibeach

slogann tú beatha
nóscumaliom
le cith is gealán

múchann tú saol
le caoch ó do shúil
mhínádúrtha

cacann tú uan Dé
a thógann peacach ón domhan

– Déan trócaire orainn