the year’s tree

by Aonghas MacNeacail

after her labors 
see the year’s high tree
cast off her clothing 

her breath has been stifled 
the rags of her branches 
wrapped up in the dark month

her heart is now withered 
under white frozen veils
under great quilts of snow 

beyond vision her movement 
when the sun starts to turn round 
tiny song of unfolding

Translated from the Gaelic by the author

Share via
Copy link
Powered by Social Snap