Aonghas MacNeacail
الانجليزية
plaide dheanntag
eadar ceann agus sàil na leapa
plaide dheanntagan sgaoilte
far an robh achadh òg
far an robh cur is buain
far an robh gaol is gàire
far an robh breith is àrach
eadar ceann is sàil na leapa
coille lotach nan deanntag
’s an torachd mhìn-ghuineach
ann an neochiontas an duilleach
lot a bhreith is lot a bhàis
lot nan cleas is lot nan càs
aimsirean a dh’innseadh duilleag
dubh is gorm an ceann a chéile
samhla ’n airgid anns na féithean
seall am faicear dearc am falach
seall am faicear bil a phògas
ann a ràithe, brot an dòchais
friamhaichean nach ruig an cridhe
ach buin tha luasganach le beatha
a bed of nettles
between bed’s head and heel
a nettle blanket spreads
where there was a young field
where there was sowing and reaping
where there was love and laughter
where there was birth and rearing
between bed’s head and heel
a stinging forest of nettles
harvest of exquisite wounds
in the innocence of leaves
the sting of birth, the sting of death
the sting of games, sting of hardship
the weathers that a leaf can tell
black and green infused together
silver’s semblance in its veins
can you find a hidden berry
can you find a lip that kisses
in its season, broth of hopes
roots that do not reach the heart
but roots still tremulous with life