| Dha Pàdraig, Bràthair Mo Mhàthar | Uncle Peter |
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| Dha Pàdraig, Bràthair Mo Mhàthar | Uncle Peter |
| Ged a tha mi an seo, chan eil mi an seo, chaidh m’ anam a dhèanamh ann an àite eile, ann an aman eile. Ceithir fichead bliadhna o mo bhreith gus an t-àm seo agus a-nise chan eil ann ach coimhead air ais – agus a bhith feitheamh. Chan eil ’na ar beatha ach turas eadar dà shian. Tha an taigh falamh ged a bhitheas a’ ghaoth a’ crathadh nan sglèat. Ruairidh, tha esan ann an Sairteal ann an cur na bruaich agus nì an ròs dubh iolach. Tha Màiri a bhean ri thaobh agus ar màthair ’s ar n-athair, anns an aiseirigh bidh sinn còmhla. Chan fhaod an ròs dearg caoidh. Cò a chruthaich na cnuic? Bha E ealanta. Tha iad a’ f às ann an cùil bheag. Cò a rinn am feur agus an t-uisge, a’ mhuir agus Eilean Fhlòdagaraidh, Grianan nam Maighdeann agus Beinn Eadarra fhèin? Bha E ealanta. Tha iad a’ fàs ann an cùil bheag. |
Although here, I am not here, my soul was made in another place, in another time. Eighty years since my birth and now there is only the backward look – and the waiting. Our life is but a journey between storm-showers. The house is empty although the wind rattles the slates. Roddy, he is in Sartle, in the weft of the bank, and the black rose will rejoice. Mary his wife beside him and our father and mother, in the resurrection we will be united. The red rose must not weep. Who created the hills? He was skilful. They flourish in a cul-de-sac. Who made the grass and the water, the sea and Flodigarry Isle, Grianan nam Maighdeann and Ben Eadarra itself? He was skilful. They grow in a cul-de-sac. |
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Maoilios
m. Caimbeul/
Myles m. Campbell |
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| Ealaíontóir/Artist: Peannaire/Calligrapher: Aistritheoir/Translator: Ainmníodh ag/Nominator: |
Conor McFeely Réiltín Murphy The Author The Author |
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