Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Aisling

Who can you be my dear sweet maid
with your dancing darting violet eyes,
your clear white skin, the burning
blush on your lovely cheeks?

I think I have never seen such eyes,
not at Tír Eoghain nor at Dhún na nGall

Nor at any of the feasts in my father's court
have I seen such loveliness;
I wish to know you, auburn-hair,
dimple-cheek, sweet sly smile:

I desire with my heart to know your name.

Look to me, please, with your lovely eyes.
I will be kind. I will cherish you.

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