Imleabhar: CBÉ 0485 (Cuid 2)

Ar an leathanach seo

1. The Song of the Corncrake (ar lean)

   

   Roinn Roinn Postáil

   (ar lean ón leathanach roimhe)

   But why should I think of "brown"?
   Of tints that are russet and dun.
   The colour of leaves that are fallen,
   it is so very like my own! It is so like my own,
   That is phantom I should not dread,
   E'en tho' winter effaces the flowers and the grasses,
   And the stalks of the tilth are dead.

   In the upland, the marsh and the sedge,
   Of Curreen and Aughlahard.
   This song of the meadow's blithe spirit
   Thro' the summer and Autumn is heard.
   Crake, crake, crake,
   All night until morning peep,
   Bidding the mower from slumber awake,
   And forth to the meadow himself betake,
   Till she sinks herself to sleep.

   The scene of the song of the corncrake is sid-on the slopes of Slieve Bawn, overlooking the Lordly Shannon where all the place - names mentioned recur.

   

   Tras-scríofa ag duine dár meitheal tras-scríbhneoirí deonacha.

   Stair Athraigh

   Cineál míre

   Seanchas

   Teanga

   Béarla

   Modh scríbhneoireachta

   Lámhscríofa

   Script scríbhneoireachta

   Cló Rómhánach

   Faisnéiseoir

   • Timothy Hurley