Ur/ heather
| do shìomain ruadh
a cuairteachadh nan iomadh buaile far nach faighear aona bhuachaill' on ghabh thu buaidh bhrat a chòmhdaich ceann is gualainn an tìr a tuath seo, mar phlaide teann, thug adhart fighte do thàmh an t-sluaigh leann na slàinte bho'n t-saoghal àrsaidh, brìgh na meala dh'an t-seilean dligheach, buigead bobhstair do chuspair ruaig sguab is pasgart is tughadh daingeann, do thìr 's do mhuinntir, ri am an fhòirneirt na d' bhraidseal clisgidh, na d'fhalaisg dùsgaidh |
your brown ropes
surrounding all those many folds where no cow-herds can be found now, since you took control banner that covered, head and shoulder, this northern land, close woven plaid, a knitted pillow for the people's rest an ale for health from the ancient world, source of honey to the dutiful bee, softest mattress for fugitives broom and basket and close-bond thatch for land and folk, in time of onset a fire to startle, heathfire to stir life |
| poem by aonghas macneacail | |