hallo a-rithist

Hallo a chairdean, de bhur naidheachd? Chan eil moran a' dol agamsa, tha mo nobhail air duilleag ceithir fichead sa sia a ruighinn, tha e fhathast uabhasach, ach co-dhiu. Tha mi a' sgriobhadh an-drast mu fheallsanaich air eilean Oronsaidh. Ach chan eil iad nam feallsanaich abhaisteach, tha iad nam paganaich agus gun moran stath nam briathran. A bharrachd air sin, mhothaich mi gu bheil da leabhar ur Gaidhlig a' nochdadh sna buithtean a dh'aithghearr. Gymnippers Diciadaoin, le Martainn Mac an t-Saoir agus Na Klondykers, le fear og a Leodhas. Tha an da gu math fada, agus sann le dochas a bhios mi gan ceannach, airson's gum bi rudeigin agam a leughadh ann an canan mo chridhe. Chan eil bardachd agam dhuibh an-diugh, tha mi air fas sgith dheth, ach cuiridh mi rudeigin suas ann an greiseag, nuair a lorgas mi am fear as taitniche. Ach, seo pios a sgriobh mi o chionn greiseag.

If there's a time for dropsy
I surely haven't found it
The misery that madness means
Finds a day and then surrounds it
With tedium and bitterness
An insanely bitter dude
My heart's so sick I'm dead
And mawkish, foul and crude
I don't know why if anything
I'm still longing for her touch
It's been so long I could have gone
And won the last world cup
The festival of hate I missed
The gloom at break of day
If I were anyone else at all
I'm sure I'd've passed away
But still I'm here and lonely
The lonely parasite
The breaking of the stones
The burning of the night


Other suicide sonnet

No words for longing strong enough
To reach the future and unhinge
On one unearthly reason binge
Subjective life is fairly duff

When my brain seeps like water
And my libido is thwarted
I'm connected or courted
My love her won't reach her

In the world that I detest
The bells start to ring
At the passing of my chest

That holds memories of sun
The memories that sing
Ah! Now the end's begun

Tha iad a' dol sios ann an luach, nach eil, co-dhiu, sin mise.