Winter
The tree still bends over the lake,
And I try to recall our love,
Our love which had a thousand leaves.
Sheila Wingfield (1906 -1992)
Geimhreadh
Cromann an crann os cionn an locha i gcónaí,
Agus tugaim faoinár ngrá a thabhairt chun cuimhne,
Ár ngrá ar a raibh duilleoga ina mílte.
