Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Ailbhe Ní Ghearbhuigh

A Matter of Some Regret

No, I’m not so depressed
As to stay
Under the duvet
All day
That would be an exaggeration

It’s just that
My eye
Gladdened at the sight of you,
Stranger,
Left behind
Last night

And this morning
There’s a taste of stout
And regret
In my mouth.

Áiféilín

Áiféilín

Nílim chomh duairc
go bhfanfainn
fén duvet
ar feadh an lae

sin áibhéil.

Níl ann ach gur
thug mo shúil
taithneamh éigin duit,
a stróinséir
is gur fhágas
im dhiaidh tú
oíche aréir

agus go bhfuil
blas pórtair
is áiféala
im’ bhéal
ar maidin.
Close

A Matter of Some Regret

No, I’m not so depressed
As to stay
Under the duvet
All day
That would be an exaggeration

It’s just that
My eye
Gladdened at the sight of you,
Stranger,
Left behind
Last night

And this morning
There’s a taste of stout
And regret
In my mouth.

A Matter of Some Regret

No, I’m not so depressed
As to stay
Under the duvet
All day
That would be an exaggeration

It’s just that
My eye
Gladdened at the sight of you,
Stranger,
Left behind
Last night

And this morning
There’s a taste of stout
And regret
In my mouth.
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