itheamaid plumbais, itheamaid peur,
lìonar am bial le dìle meala,
rachadh làn dùirn dhearcan
spreadhach tromh ’n anam,
mìlseachd thar mhilseachd san ubhal
mhór ruadh a dh’altrum gàradh .
ach seo, mar chnò bheag shuarach
uaine, bànrainn nam meas, meas
na beatha, geur ri naidheachd
bàis, meas an tàlaidh, meas
an iùil do laoch le càil na h-òige
son eòlas agus innleachd.
mas i cairt-ceadachaidh do thìr-
nan-òg, tha iomadh buaidh aic’
air lùths nam beò, faic òigh ag
amharc pòr an cniadachd teine,
’s a dòchas làn gun togar smuid
a dhearbhas cniadachd gaoil
seo i, ged tha, tus na cainnt,
am blàth, am meas, am pòr san làr,
fiùran agus craobh, tùs an dàin,
reul nan àird, o bhreith gu bàs,
biadh dh’an eanchainn, taitneach, tlàth,
an lide cleithte, tùs an là |
eat your plums, eat your pears
fill your mouth with a flood of honey
let a fistful of berries
explode through your soul,
sweet beyond sweetness the great
red apple that nursed a garden.
or this, insignificant little green
nut, queen of the fruit, fruit
of life, sharp as a news
of death, fruit of enticing, fruit that
led a warrior with youth’s keen hunger
for mastery of battle skills.
though it be password to the
otherworld, it retains the power
to affect the living, see the young girl
watch apple-pips in the fire’s embrace,
full of hope the smoke will rise
that ensures true love’s embrace.
here it is, where speech begins,
the blossom, fruit, seed in the earth,
sapling and tree, begins the poem,
star of seasons, from birth to death,
it feeds the brain, satisfying, mellow,
this hidden letter begins the day. |