Coll (hazel)
| cha b’e truimead do dhiamhaireachd ach do bhiathadh, mise nam rìgh, nam dhèirceach, a’ gabhail bhuat, na do ràithe, a' chagnaidh bheairtich nan smuaintean neartmhor agus air chùl nan smuain, ann an abachd na beatha, bradan a’ leum, bradan geal a’ leum, uchd làn de shìol beò na h-innleachd |
it wasn’t the weight of your mystery but your nourishment, i as king, as beggar, accepting from you, in your season, the rich crunch of kernel, the vigour of thought and behind such thought in the ripeness of life, a salmon leaps, a white salmon leaps, its belly fat with the living seed of invention |
| poem by aonghas macneacail | |