Dh’fhan mo litir ris a’ phosta,
oidhche Shathairne, oidhche Dhòmhnaich,
ràinig i Dùn Èideann, chaidh a fosgladh,
sheas i greiseag air a’ phiàna;
Ach tha mo chridhe fhathast
mar am bogsa-litrichean tron oidhche –
làn fios nach gabh lìbhrigeadh.
Translations of this Poem
My card waited for the postman,
Saturday night, Sunday night,
arrived in Edinburgh, was opened,
stood a while on the piano;
But my heart is still
like the pillar-box through the night –
full of undeliverable messages.
About this poem
This poem is one of the 8 printed on poem cards and distributed to libraries and participating schools across Scotland for National Poetry Day 2016.