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The Four Seasons

Once upon a time Athairne came on a journey in the autumn to the house of his foster son Amhairghen and stayed the night there; and was about to leave the next day.  But Amhairghen said to detain him:  “A good season for staying is autumn; there is work then for everyone before the very short days.  Dappled fawns from along the hinds, the red clumps of the bracken shelter them; stags run from knolls at the belling of the deer-herd.  Sweet acorns in the wide woods, corn-stalks around the cornfields over the expanse of the brown earth.  There are thorn-bushes and prickly brambles by the midst of the ruined court; the hard ground is covered with heavy fruit.   Hazel-nuts of good crop fall from the huge old trees on dikes.”       Again he made to leave in the winter, but then Amhairghen said:  “In the black season of deep winter a storm of waves is roused along the expanse of the world.  Sad are the birds of every meadow plain, except the ravens that feed on crimson blood, at the clamor of harsh winter; rough, black, dark, smoky.  Dogs are vicious in cracking bones; the iron pot is put on the fire after the dark black day.”       Again he made to leave in the spring, but the Amhairghen said:  “Raw and cold is icy spring, cold will arise in the wind; the ducks of the watery pool have raised a cry, passionately wailful is the harsh-shrieking crane which the wolves hear in the wilderness at the early rise of morning; birds awaken from meadows many are the wild creatures from which they flee out of the wood, out of the green grass.”     Again he made to leave in the summer, and Amhairghen said, letting him do so:  “a good season is summer for long journeys; quiet is the tall fine wood which the whistle of the wind will not stir; green is the plumage of the sheltering wood; eddies swirl in the stream; good is the warmth in the turf.”