This is one of my all time favorite conachlonns, written back in the old days of Ancient Sites by the Ollamh Eldrich Niall.

May Day passes.
Grasses grow and hide
Pride's primrose path.
Wrath clouds the sky.
Dry earth hardens
Garden's sacred ground.
Around my pain
Rain of tears
Fears to fall.
All barren fields
Yield naught but dust,
Crust of thirsty clay
Betrayed by summer's passion play.