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