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All About The Wind After rain. There are shallows. I grope through a forest. Colored birds breed. White sound penetrates the sky. A stream gives stones an enema. The sphincters of the pebbles quiver. Anquised quivering of the pebbles’ flesh. When the wind trembles the sun turns inside out and overflows the fields: Now the eye can travel a thousand leagues in a twinkling. The wind whispers in my ear, “You know, if I just had the drugs that light does, I could make the ocean fit into a buttercup!” Wind, sweet fool! You with your generous, two-timing heart!
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Faoin nGaoth Tar éis na báistí. Seo an t-áth. Siúilim liom tríd an gcoill. Caidreamh collaí na n-éan ildaite. Ardaíonn fuaimeanna bána go hard na spéire. Glanann sruth na clocha. Critheann matáin na gcloch. Creathadh cráite chraiceann na duirlinge. De réir mar a shéideann an ghaoth, Casann an ghrian laistigh amuigh Agus forsceitheann sí an pháirc. Agus anois tugtar radharc gan teorainn dhuit. Déanann an ghaoth sioscarnaíl i mo chluas, ‘Cogar, dá mbeadh an dúil agamsa a mbíonn ag an solas, D'fhéadfainn an t-aigéan a chur ag snámh i gcam an ime!” Gaoth, a amadáin álainn! Le do chroí flaithiúil, fírinneach.