Bhí an ghaoth fuar ag séideadh go tréan ar Chléibh Mhothair, ag scriosadh fharraige i gcoinne na hailleacha arda.

The cold wind was blowing fiercely over Cléibh Mhothair, crashing sea against the high cliffs.

Bhí an aimsir fíochmhar agus draíochtúil, mar a bhí an radharc timpeall.

The weather was fierce and magical, much like the view around.

Shroich Eamon agus Sorcha an lárionad cuairteoirí, a bhí ar imeall an chnoch, ar an gcois is gaint.

Eamon and Sorcha reached the visitor center, which was on the edge of the hill, at the coast’s vantage point.

Ní raibh focal malartaigh acu le blianta.

They hadn't exchanged words in years.

Bhí gile agus dorchadas san aer, cosúil le laethanta a gcroí istigh féin.

There was brightness and darkness in the air, just like the days within their own hearts.

I lámh Sorcha bhí urnaí créumha, ina chlúdaíodh luaithreach a máthair.

In Sorcha's hand was a bronze urn, containing her mother's ashes.

Thug an urnaí dóchas di.

The urn gave her hope.

Bhí a guth míní, ach láidir.

Her voice was gentle, yet strong.

"Tá sí linn, Eamon," a dúirt sí.

"She's with us, Eamon," she said.

Bhí Eamon ciúin, a shúile ar an bhfarraige stoirmlí.

Eamon was silent, his eyes on the stormy sea.

Bhí ócáidí beaga a dhíomá ag cuartú ina intinn.

Small disappointments were searching his mind.

D'eitigh sé dul i mbun cainte.

He refused to converse.

"Cén fáth anseo, Sorcha?

"Why here, Sorcha?"

" a d'fhiafraigh sé faoi dheireadh, a ghuth líonta le amhrais.

he finally asked, his voice filled with doubt.

Níor chreid sé i n-íomhánna bréige.

He didn't believe in false images.

Bhí sé i bponc go hionraic faoi naomhthacht an ghnímh seo.

He was genuinely troubled by the sanctity of this act.

Leag Sorcha a lámh ar a ghualainn.

Sorcha placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Maith a thuigeann sí cad is ciall leis an áit seo.

"She understands well what this place means.

Fuaireamar grá di anseo le linn ár n-óige.

We found love for her here during our youth.

Agus anois, ba san áit seo is fearr léi go mbeadh a luaithreach.

And now, this is where she best wanted her ashes to be."

"Thug Eamon aghaidh uirthi, a gcroí trína chéile idir builleacha feirge agus ciontacht.

Eamon turned to her, his heart torn between pangs of anger and guilt.

"Sílim go bhfuil cuid díom ag teip i gcónaí," a admhaigh sé.

"I feel like a part of me always fails," he confessed.

Bhí a bhfocal gan bhriseadh.

Their words went unbroken.

Tháinig Sorcha níos gaire.

Sorcha moved closer.

"Níl orainn a bheith foirfe, Eamon," a dúirt sí socair.

"We don't have to be perfect, Eamon," she said calmly.

"Ach is féidir linn iarracht a dhéanamh.

"But we can try.

Labhair liom faoina bhfuil thart.

Talk to me about what's past.

Níl sé ró-dhéanach.

It's not too late."

"Bhí an stoirm ina fhaoiseamh.

The storm was a relief.

Bhí an t-anáil ionradh déanta orthu, agus bhí na focail seo ag teacht ó chroí.

The breath invaded them, and these words came from the heart.

Bhí sé am anois don bhaint dheireanach.

It was time now for the final farewell.

Ag taobh na haille, d'oscail Sorcha an urnaí.

At the cliff's edge, Sorcha opened the urn.

"Tá sí ina garda fós, fiú le chéile," a dúirt sí go bog.

"She's still a guardian, even together," she said softly.

Bhí an séantra fós ann, ag sruthlú ar fud Mara Éireann.

The enchantment was still there, flowing over the Irish Sea.

D'fhéach Eamon ar a deirfiúr, cuimhneacháin ag teacht le chéile ina intinn.

Eamon looked at his sister, memories converging in his mind.

Bhí a fhios aige go raibh an t-am tagtha chun an t-am atá caite a scaoileadh saor, agus cuimseorg an ghrá aitheantais a dhéanamh.

He knew the time had come to release the past, and to recognize the embrace of love.

"Tá brón orm," a dúirt sé, a shúile lán le deora.

"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes full of tears.

I dteannta a chéile castáil siad an luaithreach isteach sa ghaoth.

Together they cast the ashes into the wind.

Bhí an grinned orthu.

They wore smiles.

Bhí an murlú thart agus san am sin ina mbeadh síochán.

The turbulence was over, and in that moment there would be peace.

Scaoil siad an t-am atá caite leis an gaoith fuar, a bhí lán de géibheann.

They released the past with the cold wind, which was full of freedom.

Ar imeall na haille, bhí an am atá caite imithe, ach bhí grá le fanacht.

At the cliff's edge, the past was gone, but love would remain.

Mothaigh Sorcha athrú.

Sorcha felt a change.

Bhí sí roghnaithe leis an nasc lena teaghlach arís agus sháraigh sí an eagla.

She chose to reconnect with her family and overcame the fear.

Thit Eamon, os cionn an ailt, ar anchiall cineálta na n-imeachtaí.

Eamon realized, over the abyss, the gentle significance of the events.

Comhartha grá a bhí ann, a d'oscail an doras do chaibidil nua.

It was a sign of love, opening the door to a new chapter.

Bhí na hailleacha san fhírinneacht ina sciathán athghabhála.

The cliffs, in truth, were wings of reclamation.