Òran na Cealla - by
Tha obair cealla na chùis-iongnaidh,
gràsan Dhè gun stad a’ taomadh;
bheir sinn ùmhlachd dhan a’ chealla,
tha làn de mhìorbhailean matha.
Christianity
Good Friday - by
Am I a stone, and not a sheep, / That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy cross, / To…
Good Friday - by
Three o’clock. The bus lurches
/ round into the sun. ‘D’s this go –‘
/ he flops beside me – ‘right along Bath Street?
/ -…
Columcille - by
Exile I am, for to the last, I carry in my
/ heart the oak groves of Derry with their
/ white angels…
The Daith-Tree - by
Jesus wis a jyner – lang lang syne,
/ In Joseph’s shap, in Nazareth,
/ The laddie ser’d his time.
/
/ He wrocht the bonny…
Pietà - by
Her face was thrawed.
/ She wisna aa come.
/
/ In the trams o her airms
/ the wummin held oot her first bairn.
/ It…
Or L’infante De Salamanque… - by
I
/
/ Noli me tangere, telle est sa devise,
/ Et j’ai gardé la haute main sur la douceur.
/ Elle anime ses flancs. Cet œil…
Lost - by
To quote my distant friend Imran MacLeod,
/ ‘A man with no culture has no identity.’
/
/ The last I heard of him was,…
‘All the Hills and Vales Along’ - by
All the hills and vales along
/ Earth is bursting into song,
/ And the singers are the chaps
/ Who are going…
Let Us All Be Unhappy on Sunday - by
A Lyric for Saturday Night
/
/ We zealots, made up of stiff clay,
/ The sour-looking children of sorrow,
/ While…
Said the Lord - by
And the Lord said:
/ I shall send my child to earth
/ to be a teacher and a comforter
/ and my child shall have…