Nuin
chraoibh an t-saoghail 's
do fhriamhaichean san àirde tuath,
tobar draoidheachd, tobar eòlais,
tobar dàin thu,
nach d’rinn laoidh de chòmhstri
no rabhd de chleas,
do bhuadhan àraid,
gum b’fheàrr le nathair teine
seach do thaigh,
gun togar leigheas
leis na h-eòlaichean
’o d’ chruth
chraoibh an t-saoghail
mar a phòs thu
cuan is talamh,
aìle ’s lasair,
mar a rinn thu
cromag, sleagh no ràmh,
’s có ’n draoidh a chunnaic thu
mar sgiath, is
mar a sheas thu,
craobh ameasg nan craobh
Ash
world tree, whose
roots are in the north,
druid well, well of knowledge,
well of fate, you
made no hymn from warfare
nor doggerel from play
your special qualities,
that snakes should prefer fire
to shelter in your leaves,
that healing can be drawn
by those who know
from all you are
world tree
the way you married
earth and ocean,
air and flame,
and how you made
crook, spear or oar,
and who’s the druid saw you
as a wing, and
how you stood
a tree among the trees
Fearn
mar a ghabh thu na sruthan sìorraidh
mar gum b’ann mu do shàilean
mar a dhaingnich thu na bruaichean,
a fhreiceadain na h-àirigh,
ged bu lom is fàs i,
mar a thaitnich leat an taise
’s tu seasamh na do làrach mar
mhaighdean dìleas shàmhach
nan loch, nam fèith ’s nan abhainn,
cò shaoileadh gum bu tu
cuilidh dhan ruagairteach,
tèarmann dha na leannain
(mar a dh’fheumas leannain tèarmann)
cha b’iadsan an taisdealair
’s a shùil air cabhsair tioram,
ceum a chithear
’s drochaid bhuan
Alder
the way you accepted the eternal currents
as if about your ankles,
the way you strengthened the banks,
sentry of the sheiling,
though it’s bare, deserted,
the way you adapted to moisture
as you stand in your place like
the faithful silent maiden
of the lochs, marshes, rivers,
who’d have thought that you’d
be outlaw’s hideaway,
lover’s refuge
(how lovers need a refuge)
they are not the traveller
whose eye is on the paving-stone,
the visible path,
the durable bridge
Seile
a sheilich ged a tha thu slàn
tha thu cho seang ’s gu faicinn tromhad
ach gu bheil d’aigne na dannsair gun tàmh
is d’èideadh gorm mar sgàthain do-àireamh
a’ tilleadh mo sgrùdaidh gun shamhla gàire
tha mi airson a bhith na do mheasg
ag èisdeachd ri sruthan fillte nan smuain
a’ suathadh nan deur bho na clòimhchait bhàn
ar n-aire air sìol bhradan shìos fodhainn
a’ sireadh a chuain ’s na cuairt mhòir
Willow
willow though you are whole
you are so slender I’d see right through you
except that your mind’s a ceaseless dancer
and your green clothes like innumerable mirrors
returning my scrutiny with no shadow of a smile
i want to be among you
listening to the plaited currents of thought
wiping the tears from pale catkins
our attention on smolts down below us
seeking the ocean and the great journey
Huath
seabhag ’s a spuirean cho biorach ri
ribeachan cruaidh do chairt, ’s a sùil
amach ameasg nan nàmh,
a cuachan iseanach na d’ phreas
cho nochte fann ri naoidhean lucha
bu tusa ’m fàinne dhìon a bhànruinn,
camhanaich na bealltuinn bàna,
fìon na céitinn, crùn nan ceusadh,
ionad naomh nan òigh ’s nan adhlac,
sporach, slànach, cuimhne thoinnte
eadar reothadh agus toradh,
eadar dubhair geamhraidh’s fàs,
bu tu freiceadan na h-uaisle,
sealgair thaibhse, fasgadh sidhe,
cungaidh cridhe, borb is boidheach
Hawthorn
a hawk, its talons as sharp as
the hard snares of your bark, its eye
out among where enemies,
its cup of chicks in your bush
is naked, weak as a mouse’s brood
you formed the ring around a queen,
you were the dawn of fair beltane,
mayday wine and crucifixion crown,
a holy place of virgins, graves,
thorny, healing, plaited memory
between frost and harvest
between winter dark and growth,
guardian of the noble rank,
ghost hunter, fairy shelter,
heart’s balm, fierce and beautiful
Duir
dannsa daraich
thar bhàrr nan coille
craobh-dìon nan druidh
druim an luingeis
iolaire nan craobh
bradan nan craobh
leòmhann rìoghail
nan craobh
air an raon eòlach
damh cabrach
nan craobh
Oak
dance of the oak
above the forests
the druid’s shelter-tree
the spine of great ships
eagle of trees
salmon of trees
regal lion
of trees
and on familiar lands
antlered stag
of trees
Tinne
chan iarr an gleann seo
rìgh an t-saoghail
ann a shìodan ’s
a chrùin de dh’òr
is rìgh nan cnoc,
an gorm is sgarlaid,
cruaidh air faire
’s nan saoileadh iad
gur ceannairceach
righ meanglach buan
a ghlinne seo,
na saoileadh iad
gur géilleir e
a chromas druim
bu saighdear e
a bhiathas ian,
bheir dìon do thaigh
an aghaidh buidseachd
sìdhichean is spréidh,
fir-tàileisg ann, is
deirge gréin na dhearc
Holly
this glen has no place
for the world’s king
with his silks and
his golden crowns,
see the king of the hills
all scarlet and green
keep his steel watch
don’t let them think
of him as rebel,
resilient branchy
king of this glen,
don’t let them think
that he will yield
or stoop his back
he’s a soldier
who’ll feed the birds,
protect your house
from witchcraft,
fairies, livestock,
he’s chessmen, with
sun’s red in his fruit
Coll
cha b’e truimead do dhiamhaireachd
ach do bhiathadh,
mise nam rìgh, nam dhèirceach,
a’ gabhail bhuat, na do ràithe,
a' chagnaidh bheairtich
nan smuaintean neartmhor
agus air chùl nan smuain,
ann an abachd na beatha,
bradan a’ leum,
bradan geal a’ leum,
uchd làn de
shìol beò na h-innleachd
Hazel
it wasn’t the weight of your mystery
but your nourishment,
i as king, as beggar,
accepting from you, in your season,
the rich crunch of kernel,
the vigour of thought
and behind such thought
in the ripeness of life,
a salmon leaps,
a white salmon leaps,
its belly fat with
the living seed of invention
Muin
mar dhaorach shlat
le’m braon dubh dhearc
tha choille ìseal seo
na breacan stròigh
na raip air gnùis
an iongnaidh òig,
de shùgh cho sileach ri
eas mear nach traogh
ged nach b’ann còir
do bheannachd sguilb,
mar làmhan fuar an uilc,
tha fial na d’ luchd
phreas nan tàladh
mar ròsan dubh,
crios do bhrìd nan dàn
air latha cur
Bramble
in drunken canes,
black berry fogged,
this low-level forest’s
a prodigal plaid
smear on the face
of youthful wonder,
juice as fluid as
unquenchable bright streams
though your welcoming thorns,
(cold hands that hurt)
may not be kind,
your freight is profuse
enticing bush,
your black roses,
goddess bride’s girdle
on the day of sowing
Gort
cha b'e murt a bh'air d'aire,
cha b'e muchadh,
cha b'impireachd,
nuair a ghabh thu greim teann
ait taigh, air drochaid,
creag no craobh,
ach d'fheum airson na h-aile
ruigheachd, anail gorm
na greine, 's do dhuileach
mar shaighdean beo
is deonach airson leigheas
do gach galair seice's
mionach, 's na do raithe
fleadh do bheach is speach
a' sugh do bhlathan,
is meas do lionad na
chuirm do ghobhlan-gaoithe 's
smeorach, chan fhaicear
dreathen na do chuiltean,
righ beag brodachail nan ian
ach cleoc thu, do gach deargan
's dion 'n a luchairt, do
gach right
Ivy
murder was not your intention
nor asphyxiation,
it was no imperialism
when you wrapped a tight grip
around house, bridge,
rock or tree,
but your need to reach
the air, the sun's green
breath, your leaves like
living arrowheads
eager to be healing
every malady of skin
and gut, and in your season
wasp and bee feast on
your blossom's nectar,
while your berries' fullness makes
banquet for thrush and
swallow, nor can the wren be
spotted in your shadows,
haughty little king of birds
but you're a cloak, to every flea
and in his secure palace, to
every king
Peith
bu dualchainnt thu
do dhuilleach eòlach,
is do bhlàthan,
mar gum piuthar thu no bràthair
chaidh air dhaltachd
bu dualchainnt thu
nach tuig mi buileach,
ach d’fhuaimean eòlach,
gheibh iad fàilte
grian ruadh an fhoghair,
grian gheal an t-samhraidh,
fuil no schneada,
dàimh do ràithean
Guelder-rose
you are a dialect
your leaves familiar,
and your blossoms,
as if you were a sister or brother
who’d ben fostered
you are a dialect
i can’t quite understand,
but your familiar sounds
will be welcomed
red sun of autumn,
white sun of summer,
blood or snow,
your seasons’ kinship
Ruis
asal nan craobh
ar leat ar leat
ach seall mo luchd
de mhìorbhailean
ann an callaid do thaighe
‘s tu coma co-dhiùbh
tha mi nam lighiche
tha mi nam phìobaire
ni mi cìr dha do ghruaig
ni mi gunna-séidein dhut
ni mi do dhìon, ma chreideas
tu, bho olc ’s bho éiginn
fìon mo bhlàthan
fuaran bàn dha d’ chridhe
fìon mo dhearcan
lasair ruadh dha d’eanchainn
ann an callaid do thaighe
’s tu coma co dhiùbh
asal nan craobh ’s
mo luchd de mhìorbhailean
Elder
ass among trees
you seem to say
but don’t you see my
cargo of wonders
in your garden hedge
and you seem not to care
i’m there as healer
i’m there as piper
i’ll make a comb for you
i’ll make you a pop-gun
protect you, should you have
faith, from evil or want
my blossoms’ wine
a clear spring for your heart
my berries’ wine
a red flame for your mind
in your garden hedge
and you seem not to care
ass among trees with
my cargo of wonders
Ailm
mar a thuirt an giuthas,
tha mi nam chrann,
mar a thuirt an giuthas,
a bhein mar sheol,
strac an urlair fodham,
chan eil dol nas fhaide
mar a thuirt an giuthas,
tha mi nam shoidheach
mar a thuirt an giuthas,
mo roiseid mar riamh, do sgamhan
fo throm nam cheathach sguraidh
ged is mise, ars an giuthas
righ na coille, craobh nan laoch,
an t-anam nach treig, dean
sioman as mo fhriamhach,
taod dha do chabhlachd, faic
mo lubadh ris a ghaillionn
Pine
what the pine
said i am a mast,
what the pine said,
the ben's a sail,
the earth below's my deck,
i have no need to travel
what the pine said,
i am a vessel what the pine said,
like resin, like oars,
for constricted lungs
i'm a cleansing fog
though I be, said the pine,
the forest's king, hero tree,
the immortal soul, plait
a cable from my roots to
make fast your navies, see
how I bend to the storm
Onn
còmhdachd bhràighean
an gorm is buidhe,
feachd a feitheamh
àithne ghrad nan ràithe,
freice 'n t-suirighe,
an còta màille dealgach
teine òrach
a taomadh meala,
bheir thu deàrrsadh
spreadhach gréine dhuinn,
is priobadh earraich bhuat
air cnuic bog a gheamhraidh
léine'n t-saoghail,
brat lasrach samhraidh,
gunna 'n abachaidh,
feachd mór na ràithe,
craobhsgaoileadh shuaichneis,
cnò meala air iteal
Gorse
slopes' coverlet
in greens and yellows,
an army awaiting
the seasons' prompt order,
courtship's guardians
in their thorn coats of armour
a golden fire
spilling honey,
you'll bring us
sun's explosive radiance
and spring's first flicker,
on the moist hills of winter
a world's drill shirt,
summer's flame banner,
gunfire of ripeness,
season's regiments
broadcasting signals,
honey nut on the air
Ur
do shìomain ruadh
a cuairteachadh nan
iomadh buaile far
nach faighear
aona bhuachaill' on
ghabh thu buaidh
bhrat a chòmhdaich
ceann is gualainn
an tìr a tuath seo,
mar phlaide teann,
thug adhart fighte
do thàmh an t-sluaigh
leann na slàinte
bho'n t-saoghal àrsaidh,
brìgh na meala
dh'an t-seilean dligheach,
buigead bobhstair
do chuspair ruaig
sguab is pasgart
is tughadh daingeann,
do thìr 's do mhuinntir,
ri am an fhòirneirt
na d' bhraidseal clisgidh,
na d'fhalaisg dùsgaidh
Heather
your brown ropes
surrounding all
those many folds where
no cow-herds can be
found now, since
you took control
banner that covered,
head and shoulder,
this northern land,
close woven plaid,
a knitted pillow
for the people's rest
an ale for health
from the ancient world,
source of honey
to the dutiful bee,
softest mattress
for fugitives
broom and basket
and close-bond thatch
for land and folk,
in time of onset
a fire to startle,
heathfire to stir life
Eadha
cha b'e nàire
gun do dhiùlt thu
ùmhlachd do dhia,
's gun d'rinn thu
crann dha bhàs,
ach, mar a chithear
na do dhuilleach
miaran pìobaire,
siùbhlachd d'iarrtais
air dannsa
Aspen
it's not your shame
that you wouldn't
bow to a god,
or made the
cross he died on,
but the motion
of your leaves
like piper's fingers,
an urgency
for dancing
Iodh
san aona sgial, craobh ì,
nan tùs, nan draoidh,
a thug fasgadh, san sgial eile,
do mhàthair phìleat, an
neo-chiontach 's e ris a chìch,
ciste-laighe nan iomadh cuach
a chuireas lasair anns a chuirm
slat chruaidh an rioghlaidh,
craobh bith-bhuannachd,
craobh farsuing bàis
crann a ruigeas sìos dhan uaigh,
ceum dhan anam, sgùradh cuirp
seall, nan oisein, iubhar 's abhall,
mar a tha am meanglan àrda suaint
troimh chéile, càraid òg san uaigh
biodh i tearc, biodh i na mùr fiodha
mun cuairt air seann falamhachd,
tha i beò, tha a h-eachdraidh buan
Yew
in the first tale, it named
iona of the druids
it gave shelter, in the other tale,
to pilate's mother, his
innocence at her breast
coffin of the many goblets
that give radiance to the feast
hard rod of government
tree of immortality
wide tree of death
tree that reaches down into the tomb,
a soul's way out, will cleanse the corpse
see, in their places, yew and apple,
how their upper branches twine
together, young lovers in the grave
it may be rare, it may be a timber wall
around an ancient emptiness,
it is alive, its history is secure
Queirt
itheamaid plumbais, itheamaid peur,
lìonar am bial le dìle meala,
rachadh làn dùirn dhearcan
spreadhach tromh 'n anam,
mìlseachd thar mhilseachd san ubhal
mhór ruadh a dh'altrum gàradh .
ach seo, mar chnò bheag shuarach
uaine, bànrainn nam meas, meas
na beatha, geur ri naidheachd
bàis, meas an tàlaidh, meas
an iùil do laoch le
càil na h-òige
son eòlas agus innleachd.
mas i cairt-ceadachaidh do thìr-
nan-òg, tha iomadh buaidh aic'
air lùths nam beò, faic òigh ag
amharc pòr
an cniadachd teine,
's a dòchas làn gun togar smuid
a dhearbhas cniadachd gaoil
seo i, ged tha, tus na cainnt,
am blàth, am meas, am pòr san làr,
fiùran agus craobh, tùs an dàin,
reul nan àird, o bhreith gu bàs,
biadh dh'an eanchainn,
taitneach, tlàth,
an lide cleithte, tùs an là
Apple
eat your plums, eat your pears
fill your mouth with a flood of honey
let a fistful of berries
explode through your soul,
sweet beyond sweetness the great
red apple that nursed a garden.
or this, insignificant little green
nut, queen of the fruit, fruit
of life, sharp as a news
of death, fruit of enticing, fruit that
led a warrior with youth's
keen hunger
for mastery of battle skills.
though it be password to the
otherworld, it retains the power
to affect the living, see the young girl
watch apple-pips
in the fire's embrace,
full of hope the smoke will rise
that ensures true love's embrace.
here it is, where speech begins,
the blossom, fruit, seed in the earth,
sapling and tree, begins the poem,
star of seasons,
from birth to death,
it feeds the brain, satisfying, mellow,
this hidden letter begins the day.
Beithe / birch 
Luis / rowan 
Nuin / ash 
Fearn / alder 
Seile / willow 
Huath / hawthorn 
Duir / oak 
Tinne / holly 
