Dh’ fhâilnich sìol Albha nam feachd,
Mar smùid á teach fuaraidh dorcha;
Cha’n iognadh mise bhi trom an nochd
’S tusa Fhionain ’san t-slochd, ’s a Lorma!
Translation.
MORNI’S LAMENT FOR HIS CHILDREN.
O children I am weak and old!
Bereft of you I feel forlorn;
Like oak-tree withered on the height,
Whose leaves shall never more return.