Gur duilich leam mar tha mi 'S mo chridhe 'n sas aig bron Bhon an uair a dh'fhag mi Beanntan ard a' cheo Gleanntannan a'mhanrain Nan loch, nam bagh 's nan srom 'S an eala bhan tha tamh ann Gach la air 'm bheil mi 'n toir.
A Mhagaidh na bi tursach A ruin, ged gheibhinn bas- Co am fear am measg an t-sluaigh A mhaireas buan gu brath? Chan eil sinn uile ach air chuairt Mar dhithein buaile fas Bheir siantannan na blianna sios 'S nach tog a' ghrian an aird.
Tha 'n talamh leir mun cuairt dhiom 'Na mheallan suas 's na neoil; Aig na 'shells a' bualadh - Cha leir dhomh bhuam le ceo: Gun chlaisneachd aig mo chluasan Le fuaim a' ghunna mhoir; Ach ged tha 'n uair seo cruaidh orm Tha mo smuaintean air NicLeoid.
Air m' uilinn anns na truinnsichean Tha m' inntinn ort, a ghraidh; Nam chadal bidh mi a' bruadar ort Cha dualach dhomh bhith slan; Tha m' aigne air a lionadh Le cianalas cho lan 'S a'ghruag a dh'fhas cho ruadh orm A nis air thuar bhith ban
Oidhche mhath leat fhein, a ruin Nad leabaidh chubhraidh bhlath; Cadal samhach air a chul Do dhusgadh sunndach slan Tha mise 'n seo 's an truinnsidh fhuar 'S nam chluasan fuaim bhais Gun duil ri faighinn as le buaidh - Tha 'n cuan cho buan ri shnamh.
The White Swan
Sad I consider my condition With my heart engaged with sorrow From the very time that I left The high bens of the mist The little glens of dallaince Of the lochans, the bays and the forelands And the white swan dwelling there Whom I daily pursue.
Maggie, don't be sad Love, if I should die - Who among men Endures eternally? We are all only on a journey Like flowers in the deserted cattle fold That the year's wind and rain will bring down And that the sun cannot raise.
All the ground around me Is like hail in the heavens; With the shells exploding - I am blinded by smoke: My ears are deafened By the roar of the cannon; But despite the savagery of the moment My thoughts are on the girl called MacLeod.
Crouched in the trenches My mind is fixed on you, love; In sleep I dream of you I am not fated to survive; My spirit is filled With a surfeit of longing And my hair once so auburn Is now almost white.
Goodnight to you, love In your warm, sweet-smelling bed; May you have peaceful sleep and afterwards May you waken healthy and in good spirits I am here in the cold trench With the clamour of death in my ears With no hope of returning victorious- The ocean is too wide to swim.