frionasachd na h-inntinn sgoilte

Ciamar a tha e a' dol leibh? Cha bhi mi a' deanamh cail ach sgriobhadh an-drasta, agus dol dhan bhaile mhor airson leabhraichean a leughadh. Ach, tha mo nobhail a' tighinn air adhairt. Tha mi suas gu duilleag da-fhichead sa tri. Mu deich mile fhacail.

A-nis beagan propaganda;
Na bhot tuilleadh, cruthaich do bheatha fhein, na cuir earbsa ann am fearas-riaghlaidh an t-saoghail, tha e uile coirbte. Cuir as dhaibh. Dluthachd an aghaidh nam maighstirean. Co-obrachadh an aite co-eigneachadh. Ceannard=Ceannarcach

Siud sin seachad, tha mi buileach nas fhearr a-nis

An-diugh, tha bardachd ann an da chuid Beurla is Gaidhlig agam dhuibh.

Seo a-nise e

All preaching, no desire
Can link me to that corpse
The love that burned in blinding fire
Has left me blind, of course
To search through the woods of passion
For love and lust so oft betrayed
Has led me to the answer, fashion
My joys shall leave the girl dismayed
As I dictate my terms of allegiance
My heart spins off in the dusk
My loins are infested with dalliance
My brain divested from her musk
All time is stalled, all growth unhinged
By the love that hope forgot
My cancer spreads through all my limbs
And the additions self-harm begot
To leave an imprint on the world
Is how this monster pledged his troth
I'll skewer my heart as a bitter child
Whose words are sung but not written both
By monsters of this Frankenstein
Dr Hoyle how do you feel?
When faced with the almighty crime
The singers sing but are not real

Sin mo dhan as fhearr air mo bhreisleach. Mur eil thu gam chreidsinn, gheibh thu a-mach ann am bliadhna no dha na rinn mi. Ha ha ha Thuirt iad gu robh mi as mo rian, ach seallaidh mise dhaibh.

Agus a-nis, mar a gheall mi, dan ann an Gaidhlig

Sdocha nach bi moran dheth sin a' nochdadh, oir leugh mi iad, agus tha iad sgriosal, ach co-dhiu

Cha robh gaol agam oirre
Ach sin a mharbh gaol
Le a bodhaig cruinn ach caol
A' bruidhinn rium gu corporra

Carson a tha thu diuid
Tha mi air do shon
Ach chaidh mi tuathal, carson
A bhithinn nam bhruid

Gun charthannas a ciochan
Gun iochd a ton is broilleach
Cho alainn i nam shuain

Tha i cho aotrom torrach
Ach mharbh a bodhaig cein
M'anam sracte corrach

Hee-hee, sin e. A-nise, theid mi air ais gu tuairisgeul air an ar-a-mach Albannach