L

Chan eil anns a' bhròn ach neoini
's chan eil anns a' ghaol ach bruan
fa chomhair nan reul a' sgaoileadh
's an saoghal a' dol 'na chuairt.

Agus liuthad millean bliadhna
on thriall an Talamh 'na chaoir
agus liuthad millean iadhadh
a thug e le thriall air gaol.

Dè dhomsa a mhillean iadhadh,
dè dhomsa a chian chùrs' aost
a chionn nach toir e le ghrian-leus
gnè shìorraidheachd do mo ghaol!

Seatadh e fad rèis a bhuantachd
tro chluaintean glasa nan speur
a chionn nach dealbhar le buaidh e
'na chumadh luaidhe dom chèill!

A chionn nach eil suim dar miannan
anns an iadhadh bhiothbhuan chlaon,
chan eil mo shuim-sa ra chiadan
no mhilleanan sgialachd gaoil.

Nam b'urrainn aodann mo luaidhe
bhith àlainn is buan gu bràth
bheirinn dùbhlan do Thìm le bhuadhan
le nodhachd 's luathghair fàis.

Sorrow is zero
and love but a crumb -
before the stars and their expansion,
and the turning of the world.

And the many millions of years
since the Earth journeyed in flame
and the many million times
its course has encircled love.

What to me are its million circuits,
what to me its ancient, aged course,
since it will not give to my love
with its sunbeams any form of everlastingness!

Let it race for all the time that it has
through the pale meadows of the sky
since it cannot be mastered and shaped
into the form of affection!

Since it takes no heed of our longings
in its unvarying tilted circuits,
I do not heed for myself its hundreds
or millions of stories of love.

If the face of my dear one could forver
be lovely and steadfast,
I would face down Time with its power
with the novelty and joyousness of growth.

Somhairle MacGill-Eain (from Dàin do Eimhir)