Ceanglaichean
Air an teannachadh
Le làmhan cruaidh a’ chosnaidh
Tughadh
Sìoman fraoich
Ga chumail dìon
Àrd-doras
Leac bhuinn
An doras fosgailte
Chan eil mo chasan cinnteach
San dubhar
Ach tha èibhleagan dearga
Air leac an teintean
An teine beò!
Am beannachadh
Is i’ a’ tionndadh
Laisir an teine
na h-aodann
Blàths an teine
na sùilean
Agus tha mo chridhe
A-nis
Cinnteach.
1985
Rafters
Secured
By hands toughened with toil.
A thatch roof –
Ropes of heather
Keeping it firm
A lintel
A threshhold
The open door
My steps are not hesitant
In the gloom
But there are red embers
On the hearthstone
The living fire!
The greeting
As she turns round
The glow of fire
in her face
in her eyes
And now
In my heart
No hesitation.
Bhuain mi crom-lus
An achadh arbhair
Faisg air Arras.
Fàilidh, dearg
Na bu deirge le
Todhar fala nam mìltean
’N ann an seo a thuit e?
Esan a bha mi sireadh.
Chum mi am flùr
Gu socair, maothail
An cuachadh mo làimh –
Buille chràitich mo chridhe
A’ plosgartaich ’s a’ crith
Nam bileagan
Nis a’ crìonadh.
Carson a spìon mi thu?
A dh’altram mi thu greis bheag
’S do fhreumhan fighte gu bràth
An duslach Arrais.
1985
I picked a poppy
In a cornfield
By Arras.
Delicate, crimson
Of a deeper crimson
From the blood of thousands.
Was it here he fell?
Him that I was seeking.
I held the flower
Gently, tenderly
In my cupped hand –
My hearts painful beat
Pulsing and trembling
Through the petals
Now wilting.
Why did I pluck you?
Nurse you for a short moment
When your roots are forever woven
In the dust of Arras.