Tha taighean-seilbh na dh’fhàg sinn
Feadh an fhuinn nan càrnan fuar –
Dh’fhalbh ’s cha till na Gàidheil,
Stad an t-àiteach, cur is buain;
Tha stèidh nan làrach tiamhaidh
A’ toirt fianais air ’s ag ràdh:
Mar a fhuair ’s a chunnaic mise,
Thoir am fios seo thun a’ Bhàird.
Thoir am fios seo thun a’ Bhàird,
Thoir am fios seo thun a’ Bhàird;
Mar a fhuair ’s a chunnaic mise,
Thoir am fios seo thun a’ Bhàird.
Chan fhaigh an dèirceach fasgadh
No ’m fear-astair fois o sgìths,
No soisgeulach luchd-èisdeachd –
Bhuadhaich eucoir, Goill is cìs;
Tha ’n nathair bhreac na lùban
Air na h-ùrlair far an d’ fhàs
Na fir mhòra chunnaic mise:
Thoir am fios seo thun a’ Bhàird.
Lomadh ceàrn na h-O,
An Lanndaidh bhòidheach ’s Roinn
MhicAoidh;
Tha ’n Learga ghlacach ghrianach
’S fuidheall cianail air a taobh;
Tha ’n gleann na fhiathair uaine,
Aig luchd-fuath gun tuath, gun bhàrr:
Mar a fhuair ’s a chunnaic mise,
Thoir am fios seo thun a’ Bhàird. |
Their old, abandoned steadings
Like cold cairns mark the land;
Oh, the Gael are gone for ever,
And their farm-work’s at a stand;
Their lonely ruins mouldering
Ever claim our fond regard –
What I hear and see around me
Bring as tidings to the Bard.
Tell the tidings to the Bard;
Tell the tidings to the Bard
All I hear and see around me
Bring as tidings to the Bard.
The needy finds no shelter,
Nor the weary rest at eve;
The preacher finds no people
His glad message to receive.
The spotted snake is twining
On the hearth round which was heard
The stirring tales of heroes –
Bring these tidings to the Bard.
Stripped is the area of Oa,
The Rhinns and lovely Lanndaidh too;
The Learga’s sunny hollows
Home to a miserable few;
Green, overgrown the glen is,
No folk, no crops, a hostile guard –
What I hear and see around me
Bring as tidings to the Bard. |
