Loch Coimpiutair: Dàn Gaoil
’S e m’ eudail Loch an Iomair, paisgte sa mhòintich,
gu h-àrd sna slèibhtean eadar gàirdeanan creige,
an t-uisge-meirgidh ga shàthadh le flùr an lochain –
agus thig thu fom aire, mar a thig thu,
chan ann air sgàth duinnead do shùilean,
no gilead a’ chanaich air do lèintean-sgoile,
ach air sgàth guirm’ an lochain is guirme m’ iargain
agus guirm’ a’ choimpiutair nuair a chuireas mi air e
gus an tum mi gun fhiost’ dhan t-saoghal eile
far am bi an solas a’ fiaradh air craiceann-circe
is algairimean a’ chiad ghaoil a’ builgeadh on ghrunnd
is a’ plaosgadh air an uachdar nam fàinnean tearra is airgid.
Translations of this Poem
Loch Computer: A Love Poem
Loch an Iomair’s my treasure, cradled in sphagnum
high in the hills between arms of rock
with lobelia pricking its peaty waters –
and I think of you, as I do,
not for the brown of your eyes
nor the bog cotton white of your school shirts,
but for the blue of the loch and of my longing
and the blue of the computer when I turn it on
to plunge unobserved to that Otherworld
of refracted lights slanting on gooseflesh,
where love’s first algorithms bubble from the mould
and burst on the surface in rings of pitch and silver.
