Tan o tasorc'hin

THE FIRE REKINDLING

 

...The grandmother dozed off

Trembling with the cold

The embers half-dead in the hearth,

Covered with a dust-blanket of damp ashes,

Children entered,

Whose children?

It doesn't matter. Children are always nosy parkers!

They noticed the bellows: a strange violin!

And with maladroit gestures

They made it flare up...

When the smoke rose to the mantle of the chimney.

The coals grew red.

Soon star-like sparks exploded.

 

The fire's spirit awoke

With the breath of the bellows

And... the laughter of the children...

 

Festival of Gratitude to St. Mary.