³ÉÈËÂÛ̳

(Fhir a Dhìreas am Bealach)
Nighean Fhir na Rèilig

Earrann air a thaghadh le Eilidh NicCarmaig

Thig trì nithean gun iarraidh, an t-eagal, an t-iadach ’s an gaol;
’S gur beag a’ chùis mhaslaidh ged ghlacadh leo mis’ air a h-aon,
’S a liuthad bean uasal a fhuaradh sa chiont an robh mi,
A thug a gaol fuadain air ro bheagan duaise ga chionn.

Fhir a dhìreas am bealach, beir soraidh don ghleannan fa thuath;
Is innis dom leannan gur maireann mo ghaol ’s gur buan;
Fear eile cha ghabh mi, ’s chan fhuiling mi idir a luaidh
Gus an dèan thu, ghaoil, m’ àicheadh, cha chreid mi bho chàch gur fuath.

Nam faicinn thu tighinn is fios dhomh gur tusa bhiodh ann
Gun èireadh mo chridhe mar aiteal na grèin’ thar nam beann;
’S gun tugainn mo bhriathar gach gaoisdean tha liath ’na mo cheann
Gum fàsadh iad buidhe, mar dhìthein am bruthaich nan allt.

Mur tig thu fèin tuilleadh gur aithne dhomh ’mhalairt a th’ ann
Nach eil mi cho beairteach ri cailin an achaidh ud thall.
Cha tugainn mo mhisneachd, mo ghliocas, is grinneas mo làimh
Air buaile chrodh ballach is cailin gun iùil ’nan ceann.

Three Things Come without Asking

(You who Are Climbing the Pass)
The Daughter of the Laird of Rèilig

Extract chosen by Eilidh Cormack

Translation by Peter MacKay

Three things come without asking – fear, envy, and love –
and it’s no shame for me to be one of those caught in their weave:
many great ladies have faced the same guilt that I have,
getting little reward for the fleeting love that they gave.

You who are climbing the pass, bring my greeting to that northern glen:
tell my lover my love will endure – that it will not fade or abate.
Tell him I’ll have no one else, and will not even hear talk of it:
until, my love, you reject me, I won’t be convinced of your hate.

If I saw you approaching and knew that it really was you,
how my heart would leap up – like sunbeams crossing the hills;
and I would give you my promise that every grey hair on my head
would turn yellow like flowers on the banks of a stream.

If you never come back, I’ll know the exchange you have made,
I know I’m not as well off as the girl of the fields over there.
But I’d not give my spirit, my wisdom, the skilful work of my hand,
for a fold of bright cattle and a clueless girl at their head.