Hamlet Upon Loch Fyne Poem by Don MacIver

Hamlet Upon Loch Fyne

For you dad...

It is here that I write of the saltwater Loch Fyne by the west coast of Argyll and Bute. The photo image presented here is of this heavenly oceanic inlet carving its meandering path into the panoramic majesty of Scotland's shores.

I have written this piece with the interjection of Scottish Gaelic blend and hope it translates in an acceptable fashion to those of direct Scottish birthright. I am of Scottish blood, several generations removed, thus relying upon the translation reference I have footnoted below.

**I would highly recommend reading through the poem as written without any effort at translation or otherwise confounded interpretation wouldst cast you in angered frustration away from this page. Read this poem in gently and fluid, harmonic rhythm for simply what it is and then, and only then, if curiosity is the better of you, should you endeavor to seek translation as offered in footnote.

I am, and always shall be, of the lineage of Scotland...where the Heather and Primrose sway to a gentle wind.
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In darkness of salten waters be stilled
The clouds o'er Loch Fyne hung low upon hills
Night falls gentle, Heaven by the ocean
Fishermen's boat beneath moon drops anchor

The village at sleep, silent the sheep graze
A shallow wind drifts by our window sill
Morning's fog creeps upon island's meadow
In field surrounds lay thistle and snowdrop

House on the glen Castle Inverary
Majestic in caricature and lore
Wherest Gaelic Scots in fine lordly fashion
Spake proudly the moors and bonnie mountain

The Scotsman praise long of the fair Loch Fyne
As steeped in history, gentleman's word
The beauty of eerie black water remains
Great mystic legend of centuries told

Midst nearby wood ruins of battle cries
Castles MacEwan and Lachlan attest
Drawn swords and gunnery of fishermen
Whose drift and trawl nets combed divided seas

In the air cast chilly a salten mist
The earth and garden Heather and Primrose
Green moor and mountain wondrous backrop scene
To waters of glass in silent refrain


Copyright Don MacIver 2010; All Rights Reserved
...may long the ink flow, tender quill speak

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English Translation:

In darkness of salten waters be stilled
The clouds o'er Loch Fyne hung low upon hills
Night falls gentle, Heaven by the ocean
Fishermen's boat beneath moon drops anchor

The village at sleep, silent the sheep graze
A shallow wind drifts by our window sill
Morning's fog creeps upon island's meadow
In field surrounds lay thistle and snowdrop

House on the glen Castle Inverary
Majestic in caricature and lore
Wherest Gaelic Scots in fine lordly fashion
Spake proudly the moors and bonnie mountain

The Scotsman praise long of the fair Loch Fyne
As steeped in history, gentleman's word
The beauty of eerie black water remains
Great mystic legend of centuries told

Midst nearby wood ruins of battle cries
Castles MacEwan and Lachlan attest
Drawn swords and gunnery of fishermen
Whose drift and trawl nets combed divided seas

In the air cast chilly a salten mist
The earth and garden Heather and Primrose
Green moor and mountain wondrous backrop scene
To waters of glass in silent refrain

Copyright Don MacIver 2010; All Rights Reserved
...may long the ink flow, tender quill speak
-----------------

**footnotes: Scottish Gaelic translation extrapolated from ats-group.net

acair: anchor
achadh: field
adhar: heaven
Albannach: Scotsman
ban: fair
bata: boat
cadal: sleep
caisteel: castle
caoraich: sheep
clachan: village
cnoc: hills
cuan: ocean
dubh: black
eilean: island
fada: long
fuar: chilly
fiodh: wood(s)
garadh: garden
gloine: glass
gealach: moon
gaoth: wind
iasgair: fisherman
innis: meadow
madainn: morning
maise: beauty
mor: great
neul: cloud
nigh: upon
oidhche: night
salann: salt
taigh: house
uaine: green
uisge: water