Saturday, July 02, 2005

101. Aisling (rewrite)

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.