Cuil-lodair, is Briseadh na h-Eaglaise, is briseadh nan tacannan – lamhachas-làidir dà thrian de ar comas; ‘se seòltachd tha dhìth oirinn. Nuair a theirgeas a’ chruaidh air faobhar na speala caith bhuat a’ chlach-liomhaidh; chan eil agad ach iarann bog mur eil de chruas nad innleachd na ni sgathadh. Is caith bhuat briathran mìne oir chan fhada bhios briathran agad; tha Tuatha Dè Danann fon talamh, tha Tìr nan Og anns an Fhraing, ‘s nuair a ruigeas tu Tìr a’ Gheallaidh, mura bi thu air t’ aire, coinnichidh Sasannach riut is plion air, a dh’ innse dhut gun tug Dia, bràthair athar, còir dha anns an fhearann.
Culloden, the Disruption, and the breaking up of the tack-farms – two thirds of our power is violence; it is cunning we need. When the tempered steel near the edge of the scythe-blade is worn throw away the whetstone; you have nothing left but soft iron unless your intellect has a steel edge that will cut clean. And throw away soft words, for soon you will have no words left; the Tuatha Dè Danann* are underground, the Land of the Ever-young is in France, and when you reach the Promised Land, unless you are on your toes, a bland Englishman will meet you, and say to you that God, his uncle, has given him a title to the land. * Tuatha Dè Danann, a supernatural race in Ireland, sometimes said to be the progenitors of the fairies.
No Gaelic poet has had more influence on the generation that followed him than Derick Thomson. As poet, publisher, and editor of the literary quarterly Gairm, Thomson has shaped the development of Gaelic writing in the post-war period.Read more about this poet