Aonghas MacNeacail
english
leanabh gréine, leanabh gealaich
is d’aodann aig an uinneag,
a leanaibh cuimhne ,
’s tu a cunntas nan lòineag
is d’aodann aig an uinneag,
a leanaibh gréine,
le do shùilean mór òrach
mar lòchrain anns am faighear
an leus nach caochail
tromh dhuibhre na h-éiginn
do thiodhlac a bhi dlùthadh
ri craobh nan lainnir,
air raon geal do léirsinn
do chùlaobh ris an uinneig
is sìneadh ciaraidh
a ghleidheas do stòras
do cheann air a chluasag,
a leanaibh gealaich.
na do phlaidein de dhòchas
child of the sun, child of the moon
and your face at the window,
child of memory,
as you count the snowflakes
and your face at the window,
child of the sun,
with your great eyes of gold
like the lantern which harbours
an unchanging flame
through the darkness of need
your reward to approach, now,
the sparkling tree
on your vision’s white fields
and your back’s to the window
as enclosing dusk
secures your treasures
your head on the pillow,
child of the moon,
in your blanket of hopes