The old fellow had neither watch nor clock
nor calendar to count the days that passed
from Candlemas to Advent through Martinmas,
All he needed was the length of days not time
and with regards to fathoming the winter
he kept an eye on the snow on Beinn Arm-lainn,
He needed neither almanac nor rule nor rune
all he needed was in God’s mind and in the corrie
heavy snow’d in mid-October on Beinn Arm-lainn.
Awa with your modern ways and awa with progress,
The old boy lives in isolation looking each morn
up to the ridge upon Beinn Arm-lainn,
Until one day when he awoke Beinn Arm-lainn was not
except it was always either with snow on its ridges or hot
regardless of whether the old boy awakening watches:
The universe alive though his senses had died
outwardly dead but Beinn Arm-lainn always Is
with an essence of life and sgùrr deep inside.
Armoured be the old boy’s friend
not until the end of time but beyond time
watch o’er him and then despite the sleep
he’ll grieve again upon Beinn Arm-lainn.