Saoire FhadaBeidh siad ag filleadh ón scoil gan mhoill. Líonfar an tigh le spórt is greann, Ó mhaidin go hoíche beidh cipeadraíl – Is le hóg-mhacaoimh beidh na bóithre teann. Seo é an t-am – níl siad tagtha fós; Seasann máithreacha sa tairseach go fann; Is seasfaidh i bhfad eile gan aon agó. Níl rian den bhaicle aerach ann. Chomh trom le luaidhe a gcosa, is domhain a luí. Na máithreacha ag faire an bhóthair go fuineadh gréin’; Ní fhillfidh na gearrcaigh abhaile ainneoin a nguí; Bóithre na cruinne – na flaithis is críoch leo go léir. |
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The Long VacationKatharine TynanThis is the time the boys come home from school.Filling the house with gay and happy noise, Never at rest from morn till evening cool – All the roads of the world bring home the boys. This is the time – but still they are not come; The mothers stand in the doorway listening long; Long, long they shall wait ere the boys come home. Where do they tarry, the dear, the light-heart throng? Their feet are heavy as lead and deep their rest. The mothers watch the road till set of sun; But nevermore the birds fly back to the nest. The roads of the world run Heavenward every one. |