I have news for you

I Have Tidings for You

I have tidings for you;
the stag bells,
winter snows,
summer has gone.

Wind high and cold,
the sun low,
short its course,
the sea running high.

Crimson the bracken,
it has lost its shape,
the wild goose has raised
its accustomed cry.

Color has seized
the birds’ wings,
season of ice,
these are my tidings.

–Irish (19th Century)
translated by K.H. Jackson