acras ga shlacadh fhein
air an dubhan
acras ga shlacadh fhein
air an acair
's math dh thaodte a eil do chnamhan
faisg air alba nuadh
's math dh'haodte gu bheil pios dhiot
ann an lasa air
nach cuala mi riamh
ràmh
peann mor briste
a chuidich iad a' dèanamh
iorraim, a bha dannsadh
uair-eiginn
ann am bardachd fheumail
latha breagha air
choreigin, ithidh am muir
mi. cuibhlidh sinn fad
grunnd na mara
man dà smuain
diochuimhnichte
Hunger thrashing
on the fish-hook
hunger thrashing
on the anchor
It's possible your bones lie
near nova scotia
it's possible a piece of you
is in a fish
I've never heard of
a huge broken pen
which helped them compose rowing
songs, which once
danced
in a useful poetry.
one day the sea will
swallow me. we shall
bump along the sea floor
like two forgotten thoughts

An Leabher Mór • The Great Book of Gaelic
