Lá geal é i mBealtaine.

It was a bright day in May.

Bhí Cian agus Aisling ag siúl ar Chaiseal an Fhomhair Mhóir, áit iontach agus draíochtúil sa Tuaisceart Éireann.

Cian and Aisling were walking on Caiseal an Fhomhair Mhóir, a wonderful and magical place in Northern Ireland.

Bhí na colúin basalt ag éirí os a gcomhair, mar céimchlár do fhathach riamh.

The basalt columns rose before them, like a stepping stone for a giant.

Daoine dúirt go bhfuil na colúin sin cruthaithe ag Fionn mac Cumhaill, ach ba chuma le Cian anois.

People said those columns were created by Fionn mac Cumhaill, but Cian didn't care now.

Bhí rud eile ina aigne.

There was something else on his mind.

Bhí Cian ag faire amach don láthair foirfe.

Cian was on the lookout for the perfect spot.

Bhí sé ag smaoineamh ar phósadh a chur ar Aisling.

He was thinking about proposing to Aisling.

Bhí an bheirt acu ag súil leis an turas seo le fada an lá.

The two of them had been looking forward to this trip for a long time.

D'aireodh an t-iasc san aer, agus bhí an tuisceartachán na tonnta mar chumhrán ag a aithreacha.

The scent of the sea was in the air, the northern breeze carrying it like a perfume from their ancestors.

"Féach, Aisling!

"Look, Aisling!"

" a dúirt Cian, ag pointing amach d’fharraige.

Cian said, pointing out to sea.

Ach go tobann thosaigh an ceo trom ag titim.

But suddenly, a thick fog began to fall.

Níorbh fhéidir iad a fheiceáil ar an gcosán ná an farraige a fheiceáil ar chor ar bith.

They couldn't see the path or the sea at all.

Bhí imní ar Aisling.

Aisling was worried.

"An bhfuil sé ciallmhar leanúint ar aghaidh?

"Is it wise to continue?"

" d'fhiafraigh Aisling, a bhí beagáinín scanraithe.

Aisling asked, a bit scared.

Ach chonaic sí an diongbháilteacht i súile Cian.

But she saw the determination in Cian's eyes.

Bhí a fhios aici go mbeadh sé ceart.

She knew he'd be right.

"Táimid a chéile," arsa Cian go muiníneach.

"We are together," Cian said confidently.

Sciob sé a lámh.

He grabbed her hand.

"Ní bheidh muid caillte.

"We won't be lost."

"D'fhanadar ag siúl, ag gníomhú mar tônn.

They kept walking, moving like a wave.

Bhí an ceo mar rún, mar áitiú gur chaithfeá teacht orthu féin.

The fog was a secret, an insistence that you had to find yourselves.

Faoi dheireadh, tháinig siad chuig áit ar leith.

At last, they reached a particular place.

Ba léir go rabhadar in áit ard, ach d’aonfacht le ceo an cheo.

It was clear they were in a high place, but united with the fog.

"Seo é an áit," arsa Cian, a ghuth beagnach ag meascadh leis an ghaoth.

"This is the place," Cian said, his voice almost blending with the wind.

Thit an ceo go tobann mar, saoghal breá druidte ar ais, ag oscailt amharc álainn ar aghaidh acu.

The fog suddenly lifted as if a beautiful world had closed back, opening a wonderful view before them.

Bhí an chósta samhailteach, mar pictiúr ó sheanscéal.

The coast was magical, like a picture from an old legend.

Agus ansin, le croí lán de ghrá, chrom Cian ar a ghlúine.

And then, with a heart full of love, Cian knelt down.

"Aisling," a dúirt sé, a chroí á bualadh go mór, "an bpósfaidh tú mé?

"Aisling," he said, his heart pounding heavily, "will you marry me?"

"Níor sméid Aisling.

Aisling didn't hesitate.

Bhí an suaimhneas caite amach ón gcroí aici.

She felt a calmness spread from her heart.

"Sea, Cian!

"Yes, Cian!"

" a dúirt sí agus lúfairt ar a haghaidh.

she said, a smile on her face.

Bhí an lá foirfe ansin.

The day was perfect then.

Cian d'fhoghlaim conas a mhisneach a chothromú le réasún Aisling.

Cian learned how to balance his courage with Aisling's reason.

Fuair Aisling le tuiscint go mbíonn draíocht ann san anaithnid.

Aisling came to understand that there is magic in the unknown.

Agus mar sin thosaigh scéal nua, le ceiliúradh Beltane ag ceiliúradh an gaol atá fós ag fás.

And so a new story began, with the celebration of Beltane marking a relationship still growing.