Aonghas MacNeacail

gaélico escocés

cunntas

’s a chaob chumhang seo
dhe’n a’ bhliadhna ’s na làithean
a’ dùnadh astaigh air a’ ghréin
bi thu cunntas nam bàs
na tha falbh a bha san aon sgrìob
bi thu tomhas dìlseachd do chlann
dhan chairt-iùil a dheònaich thu dhaibh
agus d’oghaichean mar a tha iad a dealbh
cànain nach tuig thu mìr no meur
nas fhasa bhi cunntas nam bliadhna
ged a b’fheàrr leat gun
                                        is an té ud cho
bòidheach ’s a h-uchd a fàs
agus tusa fighe

© Aonghas MacNeacail

counting

in this narrow bite
of the year with the days
closing in on the sun
you sit counting the deaths
those now gone who walked the same track
you measure your children’s fidelity
to the route-map you wanted for them
and your grandchildren how they shape
a language as foreign as trees to you
much simpler to count the years
though you’d rather not
                                        but see her beauty
that one whose belly is growing
while you are knitting

© Aonghas MacNeacail