| Original | Irish-language translation (of poem): Gabriel Rosenstock |
| THE STARE'S NEST BY MY WINDOW | NEAD NA DRUIDE COIS NA FUINNEOIGE AGAM |
| | |
| The bees build in the crevices | Beacha ag tógáil i scoilteanna |
| Of loosening masonry, and there | Na saoirseachta scaoilte, is siod í |
| The mother birds bring grubs and flies. | Máthair an áil le cruimheanna is cuileoga. |
| My wall is loosening; honey-bees | Tá an balla ag éirí scaoilte; a bheacha meala |
| Come build in the empty house of the stare. | Tagaigí is tógaigí in áras folamh na druide. |
| | |
| We are closed in, and the key is turned | Táimid teanntaithe, tá an eochair casta |
| On our uncertainty; somewhere | Ar ár neamhchinnteacht, áit éigin |
| A man is killed, or a house burned, | Fear á lámhach, nó teach ina lasracha. |
| Yet no clear fact to be discerned; | Is gan fíric ghlé ná léargas: |
| Come build in the empty house of the stare. | Tagaigí is tógaigí in áras folamh na druide. |
| | |
| A barricade of stone or of wood; | Baracáid cloch nó adhmaid; |
| Some fourteen days of civil war; | Coicís de chogadh cathartha: |
| Last night they trundled down the road | Aréir iompraíodh an saighdiúir óg marbh |
| That dead young soldier in his blood: | Síos an bóthar, é féin is a chuid fola: |
| Come build in the empty house of the stare. | Tagaigí is tógaigí in áras folamh na druide. |
| | |
| We had fed the heart on fantasies, | Chothaíomar ár gcroí ar aislingí, |
| The heart's grown brutal from the fare; | Cothú a d’fhág ár gcroí ar nós na brúide, |
| More substance in our enmities | Is substaintiúla é ár naimhdeas |
| Than in our love; O honey-bees, | Ná ár ngrá: Ó, a bheacha meala |
| Come build in the empty house of the stare. | Tagaigí is tógaigí in áras folamh na druide. |
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