Aonghas MacNeacail
angleščina
gridlock agus gaol
air leathad na drochaid,
a suidhe na mo chàr, gun ghluasad,
ann an cuan de ghlainne ’s stàilinn,
cinn feirge ’s foighidinn
tromh na h-uinneagan, gun ghluasad,
ag éisdeachd ris an réidio,
naidheachdan an latha
’s fón astaigh, na guthan maotha
ùghdarrasach a cumail stiùir
air beachd is ceist, is
mise seo, nam chàr, gun ghluasad,
mar a tha gach ceann mun cuairt orm,
mar phrìosanaich nar ceallan dùrdail
ghlainne ’s stàilinn, ag éisdeachd
ris an réidio, na guthan maotha
cumail smachd air smuaint, ach
siud, mar chlaidheamh briathrach
mór, a sgudadh chinn nam maoth,
tha guth na feirge ’g éirigh a
fón-siùbhlach glaist an cuan de
ghlainne ’s stàilinn, fòs gun ghluasad,
ged a tha e gluasad mhonaidhean
de bhialachd is de bhriag, toirt
anail as na guthan maotha, gaoir
a chuthaich lasrach as an réidio,
bu siud an eas de dhìtidhean,
ach thàinig e gu tàmh, is ann an
sgàil’ an smuaint gun ghairm e
gaol da chéile, prìosanach gu bheil mi
anns an reothairt reòta seo, tha sinne
dlùth, is bì, is chunnaic mi, air gnùis
nam prìosanach, nan ceallan teann
de ghlainne ’s stàillinn, fiamh a ghàire
is leig mi fhìn mo smuaint an àird,
mar cholman gaoil, gu ruig e thu
gu ruig e thu
gridlock and love
on the brae of the bridge,
sitting in my car, not moving,
in a sea of glass and steel,
of furious and patient heads
through windows, not moving,
listening to the radio,
the daily news, a phone-in, bland
authoritative voices steer
each question and reply, and
i am here, in my car, not moving,
like every head around me,
all prisoners in purring cells
of glass and steel, listening
to the radio, bland voices
steering thought, but
then, a verbal claymore
slicing off bland heads,
the voice of fury rises from
a mobile phone imprisoned in
a sea of glass and steel, still
not moving, though that voice
shifts mountainsides of
lies and plausibilities and takes
the breath from those bland voices,
pain of fury flaming on the radio,
a wild cascade of condemnation,
then the anger ebbs, and in
the shade of thought, declares a
love for partner, prisoner i may be
in this frozen tide, but we stay
close, and now i see each other
prisoned face, in each closed cell
of glass and steel, break into smiles
and now i let my own thoughts rise
like doves, to fly toward you, love,
to fly toward you, love