Foghar

by Aonghas Pàdraig Caimbeul

Thig Foghar mar a thig i,
òr eadar uain’ is geal.

Na strì ’son ràith eile
ach creid an t-seann fhìrinn

gun suidh gach mìos sìos mar chearc-ghuir,
gus am bris an là.

Autumn

Take Autumn as she comes,                
gold between green and white.            

Do not strive for another season            
but believe the old truth    

that every month will nestle down like a roosting-hen,
until the day breaks.