The red clay of the pot.

The suitor's cry from the heart
there still to be read:
"Chairopos is beautiful."

ii
A kalyx displays the Frolics of the Satyrs.

The trick of the evening: a bearded
jovial satyr balances a cup
on the tip of his erection.

iii
Showing off and revelry,
music and dancing,
ructions and sexual athletics:
with gods and godesses participating,
and heroes,
and woodnymphs,
and young shepherds
wearing broad-brimmed hats.

Even the North Wind tries
to shove his dick beyond the boundry.

iv
Apollo of the bright countenance
stands calmly to one side.

v
Through glass protecting vulgar vessels
I perceive how your eyes are fixed
on your seemly marble twin.
Few would believe
how your behind presents
at the high-tide of arousal.

Cré dhearg an phota.

Osna chléibh an tsuirígh
le léamh air i gcónaí:
"Tá Chairipós go hálainn."

ii
Choillics ag léiriú Scléip na Satairí.

Cleas na hoíche: cupán á iompar
ag satair féasógach gealgháireach
ar bharr a shlaite sínte.

iii
Gaisce is ragairne,
ceol is damhsa,
bruíon is cúrsaí gnéis
ar bun ag déithe is bandéithe,
ag laochra,
ag béithe coille,
is ag aoirí óga
faoi hataí leathanduilleacha.

Fiú an Ghaoth Aduaidh ag iarraidh
bod a chur thar teorainn.

iv
Apalló na gnúise ghé,
go socair, ar leataobh.

v
Trí ghloine chófra na soithí graosta
tugaim faoi ndeara do shúile
greamaithe id chúpla cuibhiúil cloiche.
Is fánach a chreidfeadh
mar a chaitheann tú do thóin
tráth rabharta na drúise.