The Gaelic Song in the Hebrides
An Ataireachd Ard
An ataireachd bhuan, cluinn fuaim na h-ataireachd a\rd
Tha torann a chuain mar chualas leamsa 'nam phaisd,
Gun mhuthadh gun truas, a' sluaisreadh gainneamh na tra\gh's
An ataireachd bhuan, cluinn fuaim na h-ataireachd a\rd
Ach siubjlaidh mi uat, cha ghluais mi tuilleadh 'nad dha\il
Tha m'aois is mo shnuadh toirt luaidh air giorrad mo latha
'San a\m dhomh bhith suaint' am fuachd 's an cadal a' bha\is
Mo leabaidh dean suas ri fuaim na h-ataireachd a\ird.
The High Swelling of the Sea (translation)
The everlasting swelling, hear the sound of the high swelling
The roar of the sea is as was heard by me as a child
Without change, without pity, shovelling the sand of the shore
The everlasting swelling, listen to the sound of the swelling
But I'll depart from you, I'll not move any more to meet you
My age and my appearance give an account of the shortness of my day
At the time I am wrapped in the could slumber of death
My bed make up behind the sound of the sea.
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