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MOCH La Luan Casg,
Chunna mi air sal
Lach is eala bhan
A snamh le cheile.
Chuala mi Di-mart
Eunarag nan trath,
Meannanaich ’s an ard
’S ag eigheach.
Di-ciadain bha mi
Buain na feamain-chir,
Is chunna mi na tri
Ri eirigh.
Dh’ aithnich mi air ball
Gun robh an imirig ann,
Beannachd nach biodh ann
An deigh sin.
Comraig Bhride bhith,
Comraig Mhoire mhin,
Comraig Mhicheil mhil,
Dhomh fhi’ ’s dha m’ eudail,
Dhomh fhi’ ’s dha m’ eudail. |
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EARLY on the day of Easter Monday,
I saw on the brine
A duck and a white swan
Swim together.
I heard on Tuesday
The snipe of the seasons,
Bleating on high
And calling.
On Wednesday I had been
Cutting the channelled fucus,
And then saw I the three
Arising.
I knew immediately
That a flitting there was,
Blessing there would not be
After that.
The girth of Bride calm,
The girth of Mary mild,
The girth of Michael strong,
Upon me and mine,
Upon me and mine. |