here is legend of the mythology Irish from Athirne and Amergin.
Athirne and Amergin
One day Athirne came on an autumn journey to the home of his adopted son, Amergin, and spent the night there. He was ready to leave the next day, but Amergin said, to hold him back:
» Autumn is a good season to stop; there is work for everyone before the shortest days. The spotted fawns which are in the midst of the hinds, the bushes of red ferns keep them sheltered; stags descend the mounds at the call of the leader of the herd. Acorns are delicious in the vast forests, in the fields the stalks of wheat cover the brown expanse of the earth. There are thorn bushes and bramble stalks in the middle of the ruined palace; the generous soil is covered with heavy fruit. Hazelnuts good for picking fall from the tops of old and huge trees into the ditches. "
Again he prepared to leave for the winter, but then Amergin said:
In the dark season of deep winter a storm of waves rises around the immensity of the world. Afflicted are the birds of the grassy plains, apart from the crows that feed on crimson blood, at the clamor of harsh winter; harsh, black, dark, obscure, smoky. Dogs break bones viciously; the iron pot is put on the fire after the gloomy black day. "
Again he prepared to leave in the spring, but Amergin then said:
Crisp and cold is the frozen spring, the frost will come with the wind; the ducks of the waterholes gave a cry. The bitter strident lament of the crane is an impassioned lament that wolves listen to in the first light of morning in the wilderness; the birds wake up in the meadows, many are the wild creatures they flee out of the forests, out of the verdant grasses. "
Again he prepared to leave in the summer, and Amergin said, letting him go:
» Summer is a good season for long trips; tranquil is the lofty and lofty forest, which the whistle of the wind will not move; green is the plumage of the welcoming forest; the eddies swirl in the river; sweet is the warmth of grass. "
