Nuair chaislich gaoth a' Chéitein bàrr nam flùran
   Bha aoibh is gaol is sùgradh ann an còmhradh,
Bha briathran geallaidh caomhalachd ri'n éisteachd
   'S bha uaimeachd eadar eud is mullach dòchais.

Thig oiteag bhlàth thar bhàrr nan tonnan uaine
   A' dùsgadh smuaintean 's a toirt bruadar bèo dhuinn,
A' dearbhadh dhuinn cho aithghearr 's a tha 'n ùine
   Bhon bha Faoilteach dùr toirt fùcadh treòir oirnn.

Thug an Céitean dhuinn air ais na flùran
   'S thug e bhuainn an t-ùr-blàth 's robh 'bhòidhche;
Aig ceithir deug a bhliadhachan de dh'ùine
   Gur duilich leam an ùir a bhith gad chòmhdach.

S duilich leam do chuailean dualach rìomhach
   A bhith ann an ionad anns nach cuir a' chìr air dòigh e;
Nì mi dealbh na h-àilleachd anns an ùir dhiot
   Ged nach faca mi le m' shùilean anns an fheòil thu.

Dh'fhàg thu as do dhéidh an saoghal gruamach
   Nach robh aoigheil riut no suairc nuair bha thu bèo ann;
Ghabh thu t' aiseag chun a' chala shàbhailt'
   Far 'm bi thu ann an càirdeas feachd na glòrach.

Bidh crònan tonnan iargail Lag an t-Sàile
   A' brosnachadh nan tàlaidh is nan ceòl-bhinn;
Bidh rùin phàirtichte do chàirdean mun an uain'-chnoc
   'S bidh cuimhneachain bhios buan far 'n deach an òige.

Is iomadh madainn Chéitein a nì ùislinn
   Is gaoth a' caisleadh fhlùran a bhios òrail
Air uachdar an t-seòmair chadail anns nach dùisg sinn
   Nuair chuireas làmhan chàich na bùird gar còmhdach.

Lament

When the winds of May rustled through the flowers
   There was courtesy and love in their conversation,
There was mildness and mirth in the language
   Forming a boundary between jealousy and hope.

The fresh wind blowing from the ocean
   Awakening our thoughts and reviving our dreams,
Brings home to us how short the space of time
   Since stubborn January showed its hatred.

The month of May brought back the flowers
   But it took away the fruitful blossom;
At fourteen years of age
   It's sad that wood and sand are your garments.

It's sad that your beautiful curly hair
   Is in a state where the comb can't put it in order;
I can picture your handsome features in the grave
   Although I never saw you in the flesh.

You left behind the gloomy world
   Which was not kind and meek to you when living;
You made the journey to the safe harbour
   Where you will be in the company of heavenly angels.

The soft murmur of the ocean on the shoreline
   Will provide the music and the lullaby;
The communicating of your relations will be around the green hillock
   And everlasting memory round the grave of the young.

Many are the May mornings in wantonness
   The wind will rustle the gilding flowers
Over the apartment from which we shall not awaken
   When the hands of other people have put the boards on us as covering.

(author's translation)