FHAIRSHON swore a feudAgainst the clan M’Tavish—March’d into their landTo murder and to rafish;For he did resolveTo extirpate the vipers,With four-and-twenty men,And five-and-thirty pipers. But when that he had goneHalf-way down Strath-Canaan,Of his fighting tailJust three there were remainin’.They were all he hadTo back him in ta battle:All the rest had goneOff to drive ta […]
In the cold of the morning, / In the burning of the day, / The thin lines stumbled forward, /…
The moon – frozen eye –
/ Stares down stupidly,
/ And the wind licks
/ A few bare sticks,
/ Once trees:
/
/ And near the craters…
after the Gaelic of Lachlann Mor MacMhuirich (fl. 1411)
/
/ You Clann of Conn, remember this:
/ Strength from the eye of the storm.
/ Be…
Quo life, the warld is mine.
/ The floo’ers and trees, they’re a’ my ain.
/ I am the day, and the sunshine
/ Quo life,…
Waves beating up against cliffs.
/ Cliffs holding hard against waves.
/
/ …
Small folk playing our part.
/ ‘Come all ye’, the country says
/ You win me, who take me most to heart. …
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…
‘A-a-ll the starboard watch!’
/ ‘Shairly no again!
/ What’s the wather like?’
/ ‘Cauld, wi sleet and rain.’
/
/ ‘Lofty. Depth-charge sentry.
/ Knocker. You’re stand-by.
/ Haggis. On the gun.
/ Shorty.
an extract
/
/
/ II
/
/ On the heights of Killiecrankie
/ Yester-morn our army lay:
/ Slowly rose the mist in columns
/ …
