The Gallery

Tinne (holly)

chan iarr an gleann seo rìgh an t-saoghail ann a shìodan ’s a chrùin de dh’òr is rìgh nan cnoc, an gorm is sgarlaid, cruaidh air faire ’s nan saoileadh iad gur ceannairceach righ meanglach buan a ghlinne seo, na saoileadh iad gur géilleir e a chromas druim bu saighdear e a bhiathas ian, bheir dìon do thaigh an aghaidh buidseachd sìdhichean is spréidh, fir-tàileisg ann, is deirge gréin na dhearc

this glen has no place for the world’s king with his silks and his golden crowns, see the king of the hills all scarlet and green keep his steel watch don’t let them think of him as rebel, resilient branchy king of this glen, don’t let them think that he will yield or stoop his back he’s a soldier who’ll feed the birds, protect your house from witchcraft, fairies, livestock, he’s chessmen, with sun’s red in his fruit

poem by aonghas macneacail