I have news for you; the stag bell, winter snows, summer
Has gone.
Wind high and cold, the sun low, short its course, the sea
Runs high.
Deep red the bracken, its shape is lost; the wild goose has
Raised its accustomed cry.
Cold has seized the birds' wings; season of ice.
This is my news.
9th century Irish/Celtic poem
author unknown
At the
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