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Time
Starting slow, crawling by
An invaluable currency taken for granted
Slipping through our fingers, naught to justify
But to its importance we turn a blind eye
Choosing to ignore its diminishing existence
Preferring to live in eternal ignorance
Its waste quickens pace, rushing away
An expense never to regain
Why choose idleness over such a precious commodity?
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I originally wrote this poem in Irish Gaelic, then translated it to English. Here is the original version:
Ag tosú mall, ag crawlail le
Airgeadra fíorluachmhar glactha go deonach
Ag dul trí mhéara, ba chóir go mbeadh údar maith leis
Ach a thábhacht, casann muid súil dall
Roghnú neamhaird a dhéanamh a maolú ann
B’fhearr leis maireachtáil i aineolas síoraí
A dhramhail luathaigh, imithe
Costas nach bhfaighidh ar ais riamh
Cén fáth go roghnóidh tú idéaltacht thar earra luachmhar den sórt sin?