Bhí gaoth láidir ag séideadh in aice le hImill an Atlantaigh, ag cur sneachta timpeall ar na haillte arda.

A strong wind was blowing near the edges of the Atlantic, swirling snow around the high cliffs.

Bhí an Nollaig ag teannadh linn, agus bhí siad ag siúl le chéile, Cormac, Fiadh, agus Niamh, feadh na nAillte Mhóire.

Christmas was approaching, and they were walking together, Cormac, Fiadh, and Niamh, along the Cliffs of Moher.

Bhí an aoibhneas ar Cormac.

There was delight in Cormac.

"Ní fhaca mé riamh áilleacht cosúil le seo!

"I've never seen beauty like this!"

" a dúirt sé, agus smaoinigh sé ar an ngrianghraf foirfe a thógfadh sé chun a chairde a chur éad.

he said, and thought about the perfect photo he would take to make his friends jealous.

Ach, bhí Fiadh ag faire amach don aimsir.

However, Fiadh was keeping an eye on the weather.

Bhí an spéir ag dorchú agus bhí síse imníoch.

The sky was darkening, and she was concerned.

"Ní mór dúinn bheith cúramach," a dúirt sí, a haghaidh tromchúiseach.

"We must be careful," she said, her face serious.

Ach, ní raibh Cormac ag éisteacht, mar bhí sé lán de spreagadh le haghaidh eachtra.

But, Cormac wasn't listening, as he was full of eagerness for adventure.

Bhí Niamh níos ciúine mar ba ghnách, ag machnamh.

Niamh was quieter as usual, reflecting.

Bhí a fhios aici gur chóir a bheith machnamhach.

She knew that she should be contemplative.

Fuair sí cothromaíocht idir Cormac agus Fiadh, cineál suaimhneachrú a sheasfadh idir orthu araon.

She found a balance between Cormac and Fiadh, a kind of calmness standing between them both.

Beartaigh sí fanacht go socair, agus féachaint cibé rud a thiocfadh.

She decided to stay calm and see whatever came.

Leis an sneachta ag titim níos troime agus an ghaoth ag éirí níos galánta, d'éirigh Cormac níos neirbhíseach.

With the snow falling heavier and the wind becoming more boisterous, Cormac became more nervous.

Shroich siad an imeall na n-aillte, áit a raibh sé rún aige an pictiúr is aifeach a thógáil.

They reached the edge of the cliffs, where he intended to take the most spectacular picture.

Cúpla céim níos gaire don imeall, spreag Cormac at a mhianta féin, agus éignigh sé firinne an aimsir, cé go raibh Fiadh ag rá "Níl sé sábháilte, Cormac!

A few steps closer to the edge, driven by his own desires, he ignored the truth of the weather, even as Fiadh was saying, "It's not safe, Cormac!"

"Díreach ansin, d'éirigh gála láidir agus tháinig an stoirm go tobann.

Just then, a strong gust arose and the storm suddenly came.

Bhí Cormac beagnach ag iarraidh a áit a athnú, ach ba é an gaoithe a chaill a chothromaíocht míorta chéatnair.

Cormac nearly managed to regain his position, but the wind caused him to lose his balance moments later.

"Cormac!

"Cormac!"

" ghéimigh Fiadh, ach ba é Niamh a gníomh a choiscead.

shouted Fiadh, but it was Niamh's action that prevented disaster.

Timpeall air agus tarraingthe siar ón imeall, chuir sí a chosa go docht san sneachta.

Surrounding him and pulling him back from the edge, she dug her feet firmly into the snow.

Nuair a bhí siad ar ais ó imeall na contúirte, d’fhéach Cormac ar a cairde.

Once they were safe away from the edge of danger, Cormac looked at his friends.

Buíochas leis an réasúnacht idir Fiadh agus an intleacht tobann Niamh, bhí siad sábháilte.

Thanks to the reasonableness of Fiadh and Niamh's sudden cleverness, they were safe.

"Gabh mo leithscéal, bhí mé amaideach," admhaigh sé, a chuid súile lán de mhachnamh nua.

"I apologize, I was foolish," he admitted, his eyes filled with new reflection.

Fuair siad tearmann i sean-bhotha atá gar don aill.

They found refuge in an old cabin near the cliff.

D'fhéach an triúr orthu féin ar feadh tamaill fhada.

The three of them looked at themselves for a long time.

"B'fhéidir go mbeadh grianghraif go maith," a dúirt Fiadh leis an gcroí éadromaithe, "ach níl siad ag tabhairt aird ar an nóiméad.

"Perhaps photos are good," said Fiadh with a lightened heart, "but they don't pay attention to the moment."

"Bhí Nollaig á gcaitheamh acu i gcathair Bheaga lusanna lúibhe faoi threoir na réaltaí a raibh splanc ag lonrú ó chéadnais na n-aillte.

They spent Christmas in a small town, herbal lights under the guidance of the stars that sparkled from the summit of the cliffs.

San oíche úd, roinn siad scéalta faoi chompord a chairdeas agus thuig Cormac go raibh luach níos mó i dtreascairt na heachtra ná mar a bhí in íomhá.

That night, they shared stories about the comfort of friendship, and Cormac realized that there was more value in the adventure's outcome than in any image.

I lár an gheimhridh, sna gaoithe agus sneachta, fuair siad a gcompord sa doimhneacht a cháirdeas agus san áilleacht sin a tharla aimsir a d’éirigh leo a bhréagnú gan ghabháltas a bpictiúr.

In the depths of winter, in winds and snow, they found comfort in the depth of their friendship and in the beauty that defied the weather, without capturing it in a picture.

Tuig Cormac gur chóir an nóiméad a chaoinreiceáil in áit í bheith ingrianta.

Cormac understood that the moment should be savored rather than captured.