The Gaelic Poetry Nook will present poetry both in English and Gaelic.

Turas

Once

Thill sinn feasgar far an robh sinn a' gearradh. Ràinig sinn am bàgh leis a' gheòla. An làn a' tighinn 's an fheamainn a' dol air bhog. Thòisich sinne ga cruinneachadh. Bha 'n sàl flodach. Shiaod sinn am ball ri chèile. Theannaich sinn an ròp aig an oir. Cha robh e ro mhòr ach bha e tiugh, dùmhail. Dhèanadh e buntàta gu leòr dhuinne. Dh'fhalbh sinn leis 's e ceangailte ri tobhta. Sheas am badadh 's cha do thruis e. Bha i air fàs fuar mun d'ruig sinn, 's lot dearg a' dol am feabhas san àird an-iar. Gealach fhann ag èirigh, còta ban sgòthan mu casan, 's muir-lan ciùin. Oidhch' eile bha siud, bliadhn' eile. Iain Macdhomhnaill

We went back in the evening to where we had been cutting. We reached the bay in the boat. The tide having turned and the seaweed beginning to float We began to gather it together. The salt water was lukewarm. We pulled the raft of seaweed together. We pulled the rope tight at the edge. The raft was not too big but it was thick, well-packed. It would grow enough potatoes for us. We set off with it, tied to a thwart. The binding held, didn't run along the rope. It had grown cold before we arrived, with a red wound healing in the west. A pale moon rising, a petticoat of clouds round its feet, and a calm high tide. That was another night, another year. Ian MacDonald

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