About Us
Hallaig
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ďThe deer, time, liggs in Hallaig shaw.Ē

 

The windaeís nailt an broddit up

whaur-throu I saw the airt o the Wast

an ma luve is at the burn o Hallaig

in her bunnet o birk, an she wis aye

 

atween Inver an Mulkie Linn

thare or thareaboots roun Baile-Chuirn wey,

cled in a birk, in a hazel,

in a young rowan straucht an sclender.

 

In Screapadal whaur ma ain fowk wis ,

whaur Norman an Big Hector bade,

thair dochters an thair sons is a wid

raxin up alang the burnside.

 

Prood the nicht the pine cocks

craws on the heicht o Cnoc an Ra

straucht thair spaulds in the muinlicht Ė

no thaim the wids o ma hert.

 

I will byde on the birken shaw

whit time it raxes til the Cairn

whit lenth the haill rig til its scadda

owre Ben na Lice dis lour.

 

Gin it disna, Iím awa doun til Hallaig

til the sabbath o the deid

wi aa the fowk in thrangity

ilk generation thatís awa.

 

Thayír aa aye in Hallaig

Macleans an MacLeods

aa thaim thare frae MacGille Chaluimís day:

the deid haes been seen, leivin yit Ė

 

the menfowk lyin on the gress

ilk gavel-en o ilka hoose thatís been,

the lassies a wid o birk trees,

straucht thair spaulds, blate thair heids.

 

Atween the Leac an Fearns

a braird o moss saftens the hie road

an the lassies in seilent bauns thegither

gangs til Clachan as frae the first.

 

An comin back frae Clachan,

frae Suisnish an the land o the leivin Ė

ilkane young an licht o fuit

wi nae hertbrek in the story.

 

Burn o Fearns lenth o sea-tint cladach

Sae clair in the raivelment o the hills

theír nocht but thon congregation o the lassies

aye haudin forrit at thair endless haik,

 

returnin til Hallaig come the eenin

in the dumb leivin gloamin

fuhlin the stey braes

thair lauchter in ma listenin lik a haar

 

thair fairheid watterin ma hertís een

gin comes the mirk owre the kyles,

gin gangs the sun the back o Dun Cana

a buhlet frae luveís gun will come threipin

 

an stote thon deer that gangs stoiterin

snowkin at the gressy larachs;

he will faa in the wid, his ee jeelin;

whyle Iím alive, ye winna finnd his bluid.

 

 

(set owre frae Somhairle mac Gill-Eain)

John Law