Blogairdeachd a' bhaile bheag

Hola, a chairdean, chan eil mi air a bhith ri moran sna laithean a dh'fhalbh, direach a' cuideachadh caraid mo mhathair rudan a ghluasad san taigh ur aice. Comhla ri sin, tha mi air a bhith a' coimhead as deidh na cloinne aice nuair a tha iad tinn. Tha Amber mu seachd, agus tha i gu math laghach agus eibhinn, ach tha Rosa buileach eadar-dhealaichte, tha i gearaineach agus bronach a' coimhead. Agus chan eil i ach aon-bliadhna deug cuideachd, co-dhiu, tha mi fhathast a' feitheamh air freagairt bho mo bhana-charaid Sarah, chan eil fhios am de thachair rithe, ach tha mi'n dochas gu bheil i gu math. Chan eil an uidhear de luchd na fearas-riaghlaidh a' basachadh sa bha mi'n dochas, ach chi sinn de thachras san am ri teachd.

Co-dhiu, seo bardachd

So much longing brings you closer to God
The ecstacy is never misplaced
The pleasure in her legs and arms
Restore you to a state of grace

Where the pain that stretched you out
Responds by dulling with her smile
All messiahs know the car
That brings all heaven back a while

I love her truly, more was said
When for love of grief
I gave my heart and mind for dead
And collapsed alone, a thief

agus a-nise

The pain of an Oilthigh
Is reflected on its face
The archways, the concrete
That lead you on, distress, displace
Your mind in painful ways of thought
You can't falter on the deathly path
Your mind unhinges with the weight
Of all past misery, no hearth
Of hospitality or welcome here
But assessment plain and simple
So much so you lose yourself
The broken bits begin to tinkle
As they fall out from your head
Your mind replaced by glass
Reflecting all the studious hate
That collected here, unbid, so crass
Unnatural the gifts they give you
The fatal flaw you find inside
There is no heart within this beast
There's only girders, cells and slides
Where you struggle on just like a peasant
When faced with the monstrosity
There is no point in striving forward
You're held back in the grip of history
And all the voices afore and since
Who claimed " God bless my studies"
It is in all kinds akin to mince
This mess with fate and palls and buddies

barrachd bardachd

Chaidh mi a-steach gu buth-leabhar nan Gaidheal ann an sraid mansfield an-diugh, agus bha mi a' bruidhinn ris an te aig an desc, bha i gu math laghach, Sann a Leodhas a bha i, agus an seachdain mu dheireadh bha mi a' bruidhinn ri te ann am buth rannsachadh aillse ann an Shawlands. Sann a Barraigh a bha ise, agus a-rithist, bha i laghach,
co-dhiu
Seo daintean

The gods that gave us to the past
Were wise and good and just
Unlike the pain that lasts with us
They knew us, and we trust
The visions, fits, in which we see
Their faces, acts and warnings
Not to spend ourselves in greed
But to rise slowly with the morning
To sleep soundly with the knowledge
That our acts will dissipate
With the moment that we pass from earth
And not endure, accumulate
The pain that always stays with work
On distant ends and vicious aims
In the ugly wares of domination
To which all fascists lay their claim
The truth is impossible to see it seems
But must be excavated
There is no god in tower blocks
By which we are created.

Seo fear goirid

My innate nature was distorted
By the truths I cared to seek
When all my mind was fratricide
My future cold and bleak
But now I've buggered up my mental
State and cannot think
I think I'll take my books of pain
And wash them down the sink

da leabhar airson nam borb

Cheannaich mi da leabhar Gaidhlig an-diugh, agus tha mi'n dochas gu bheil iad math, tha iad a' coimhead tomadach co-dhiu. 'S iad na feadhainn a dh'ainmich mi an turas mu dheireadh, seo bardachd

The veil of tears, the veil of death
Which stifles all who do behold
The pain and horrendous wondrousness
Of love with hair of shining gold
It's to be fair unlike all else
The weariness that strikes my heart
When faced with the almighty truth
The English wrenched our souls apart
And not merely that, all spirit gone
To flounder now is our just fate
Bereft of life, of love, of tears
Seventy-five million stand before the gate
All innocence is reconciled
All peace returns at last
The dizzy venom of their spite
Withers underneath the blast
Of love, once sheltered, now proud and true
Destroying all doubt and death and hate
To restore at last those wandering
The Celt, the red, the slav, the african, the jew