Cearcall mun Ghealaich Circle about the Moon
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Cearcall mun Ghealaich Circle about the Moon
Bliadhna mhòr na stoirme
chunnaic mi cearcall mun ghealaich
’s dh’fhalbh na h-adagan eòrna
nan sruth sìos chun a’ chladaich,
is sheas sinn nar triùir ann
(mi fhèin, mo phiuthar is m’ athair)
a’ faicinn obair ar làimhe
na deann-ruith à sealladh.

Is chunnaic mi uair eile
cearcall mun ghealaich –
aig deireadh samhraidh sgiamhach
chaidh gaol às mo shealladh.
Bu riaslach an tìm ud
gu ’n tàinig leigheas an earraich,
ach thàinig le tìde
àm grianach gum aire.

Ach a-nis, aig deireadh samhraidh,
chì mi cearcall mun ghealaich
is tusa a’ falbh bhuam
gu baile an Sasainn,
’s mo chridhe cho sgaoilte,
na raon mòr fada farsaing
gun adagan ar gaoil ann
fon d’fhuair mi fasgadh bha abaich –
’s ma dh’fhalbhas tu,
cha till grian bhrèagha an earraich.
The year of the big storm
I saw a circle about the moon
and the stocks of barley
streamed to the sea –
my father, sister and I stood
watching the work
of our hands
rush from sight.

At another time
I saw a circle about the moon,
at the end of the summer
when love disappeared from sight,
a restless season till
the healing spring,
but through time
I noticed the sun.

But now at the end of a summer
I see a circle about the moon
and you going from me
to an English city;
my heart is desolate,
a wide swept open field
without the stooks of our love,
their ripe shelter
– should you not return,
neither will the spring sun.

 

   

catrìona nicgumaraid/ Catriona Montgomery
b.1947


Ealaíontóir/Artist:
Peannaire/Calligrapher:
Aistritheoir/Translator:
Ainmníodh ag/Nominator:
James Morrison
Donald Murray
The Author
The Author

 

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