Bileagan

Mar chuimhneachan air na martaraich
air Là Eadar-nàiseanta Cànain Mhàthaireil

Nuair a chuireas tu
bileagan mu choinneamh ur
cuimhneachain, na bi an dùil
gun riochdaich iad caochladh.

Ged a chuireas na
dearga fuil chaithte nad
chuimhne, na fionna
caoin fhìorghlan na
marbhphaisg,

Cuir romhad, na
àite, duilleag a
thionndadh. Tuig
nach i ach aiteal beatha,
coileanta, brèagha na gràine.

An fhìrinn anns gach
cuisle is gach cuisle
na lide.

Criomag de sgeulachd
a thòisich o chionn
chianntan, a mhaireas
an là, cha lughaide
dà là is i na

Lìthseag air càrn.
Cagar nach eil na
dìomhaireachd no
gealladh, ach agairt
Gur dòcha, gun tig
teanga beò air a’
cheartuair.

 

Petals

In memory of the martyrs
on International Mother Language Day.

When you place
petals before your
memorial, do not expect
them to represent decay.

Though the red may
remind you of bloodshed,
the pale of the purity
of the shroud.
 
Decide, instead, to turn a
page. To understand that
it is but a glimpse of life,
complete, splendid in its plainness.

Truth in each venule,
in every venule a
syllable.

A fragment of a story
begun long before
the times, that may last
a day, perhaps,
two days and then

A film upon a pile of stones.
A whisper that is neither
a secret nor a promise,
but a suggestion
That, perhaps, a
language might survive
On this very moment.