Sráid An Chloig

Solas
Ní­ minic a chuimhní­m anois ort
Ach inniíº lá do bhreithe
Braithim uaim ceirní­ do ghutha
Gona h-aorian clamhsáin
Is do chroí­ athláimhe
Gona chlíºdach stróicthe
Dialaim díºnta do mhothíºchá
D'fhanas deich neomat ar shráid an chloig
Ag comhaireamh neomat ar neomat
Go doicheallach stuacach a máirseáil tharam
Ar shála árda ar shráid an chloig
Ceolann an bháisteach fonn deor
A éilí­onn focail
Is mo scórnach slóchta ag slaghdá
Ní­l óta im' cheann
Is a chroí­ aonphoirt
Gona mhéara aclaí­
Chughainn arí­s séasur foghlama
D'fhanas deich neomat ar shráid an chloig
Ag comhaireamh neomat ar neomat
Go doicheallach stuacach a máirseáil tharam
Ar shála árda ar shráid an chloig
('Tisn't often I think of you these days
But today on your birthday
I miss the record of your voice
With its one-track of complaining
And your second-hand heart
With its torn cover
The closed collection of your feelings
I waited ten minutes on the street of the clock
Counting minute by minute
Grudgingly, stuck upedly marching past me
On high heels, on clock street
The rain plays a tear-tune
That calls for words
And my throat choked with a cold
There isn't a note in my head
And oh my heart of the one tune
With its athletic fingers
Here we go again with the learning season
I waited ten minutes on the street of the clock
Counting minute by minute
Grudgingly, stuck upedly marching past me
On high heels, on clock street)