ar_eirinn_ni_neosainn_ce_hi werewolf The night started a scene, the fire brought a crowd in. They say that her beauty was like music in love. And few in the candlelight thought her too proud. The house of the planter is known by the trees. And men who had seen her drank deep and were silent. The women were talking wherever she went. Like a gong that has rung, or a wonder told shyly. And oh...she was the sunday of every week. 020922 ... frAnk very nice imagery. 020922 ... werewolf oh how embarassing. i found this in an old notebook in english and though i'd write it here. turns out i remembered that i had translated it from gaelic, but it is really by austin clarke. oh well, it's still beautiful. 021020 ... werewolf it had been in a cd's liners notes that i read when i was like ten. 021020 ... mon Ar éirinn Ní n-Eósainn Cé h-í Aréir is mé téarnamh um' neoin Ar an dtaobh thall den teóra 'na mbím, Do théarnaig an spéir-bhean im' chómhair D'fhág taomanach breóite lag sinn. Do ghéilleas dá méin is dá cló, Dá béal tanaí beó mhilis binn, Do léimeas fé dhéin dul 'na cómhair, Is ar éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í. 030706 ... ferret i wish i spoke german 030706 ... no reason i went to see austin clarke read at my school this past year. he apparently swiched parts of his story around because he was adamant on including chicken wings, and needed a proper place for them. 030706 what's it to you? who go blather from