We sleepwalk the bridge across the Brora
Where you youngfolk scream at us,
“Am Fuadach Gaidheal,” [1]
And you’re quite right to do so.
We take flight heronlike to Gleann Slaodach [2]
To sit in silence in the roofless ruins
A hearthstone cold as cunning
Brùidealachd the haunt that wounds us. [3]
Cleared of the Gaidheal for the big white sheep
We make for The Craggan and the Poacher’s Leap
Onto the crown whitened with the May snow’s steel
So we turn south to shelter in Cil Colm Kil. [4]
Don’t preach vanity of vanities
Or the what we sow is what we reap
There is nothing new under the sun for us
Us subservient Highland sheep.
O’ Youngfolk of the Sudr Lands [5]
Generation after generation has failed
Don’t be hanging your heads in shame
For us Am Fuadach Gaidheal.
[1] – The Highland Clearances
[2] – Glen of dragging time
[3] – Brutality
[4] – Gordonbush in Strath Brora
[5] – Viking Sutherland