Aonghas MacNeacail

苏格兰盖尔文

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

© Aonghas MacNeacail

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

© Aonghas MacNeacail