Matisse

	tá mo chroí á dhó, a shearc, uiscí na Séine ní fhuaródh é         dá n-aimseoinn paidir ina luaith         scrábálfainn ar chosáin í
	my heart burns, beloved, waters of the Seine cannot cool it         could I find but the ashes of a prayer         i'd scrawl it on footpaths