Stoirm is gailleann 's deilge shìontan,
Frasan sneachda 's càblaid fhiadhaich,
Reodh-ghaoth snaidheadh feadh nan crìochan,
                              Aimsir ùdlaidh;
Aingealtachd air fiamh nan speuran,
Splèachdach neòil air aodann gréine,
Connspaid iargailleach ag éirigh
                              Air na dùilean;
Mìos an fhaoiltich rinn a dhranndail,
Toirt gu chrìch an ràidhe geamhraidh,
Géilleachdainn do thìm 'na deann-ruith
                              Triall a chùrsa.

AN GEARRAN

Aiteamh agus tuiltean dìle
Dòrtadh oirnn a-nuas gun dìobradh,
Aibhnichean a' ruith 'nan still
                              Gu iomadh sàile;
Monmhair fhann aig tuinn nan cuantan
Sluaisreadh ris na creagan cruaidh-chas
Far 'n do shaothraich iad gun bhuannachd
                              Troimh na linntean;
Truaghantachd a' lorg gach creutair,
Deò na beath' air thuar an tréigsinn -
Teachd-an-tìr cho gann dha'm feuman
   Anns an sguabaig.

AM MÀRT

Mìos an-iochdar, greannach, ascaoin,
Trògbhoil gamhlais teann dha daonnan -
Tàsanachd gun truas ri daoine
                              No ri creutair;
Miadhalachd na sàmhchair sìochaint
Cha robh fasgadh dhaibh m'a chrìochan
                              'Na chuid sheòmar;
Séideadh balg le garbhachd tuasaid
Cur an céill nan euchdan truaillidh
Dearbhadh g'eil an claidheamh cruadhach
                              Teann 'na chrògan,
Toirt am follais dhuinn le daors'
                              Gur mìos a' Mhàirt e.

A' GHIBLIN

Caochladh tìde 's sìneadh soillse,
Soinneantachd is sìth an aoibhnis,
Tilgeadh òglaidheachd neo-choibhneil
                              Tharna uthard;
Monmhair bhinn aig uillt nam beanntan
Ruith gu réidh troimh àilean greannmhor
Caisleadh morghain agus gainmheach
                              Thar nam mulan;
A' churracag bhreac thug bàrr le bòidhche
Air gach eun thug plaosg gu beothaich
                              No gu eirte
Neadachadh air feadh an fheòir
                              'S tighinn beò le dìcheall.

AM MÀIGH

Mìos an aoibhnis is an oirchis
Air bheil ainm na maighdinn shònraichte
Air bheil bunaitean mo dhòchais
                              Air an stéidheadh;
Ionaltradh aig buar is caoirich
Criomadh feòir measg bhòidhche raointean
                              Agus réidhlean;
Laoigh is uain a' falbh 'nan deann-ruith
A' cluich cho saor am braon an t-samhraidh,
A' bhanachag le ceuman uallach
Dol a bhleoghainn a' chruidh ghuaillfhinn
                              Chun na h-àirigh.

AN T-ÒGMHIOS

Grian na glòir-réim anns na speuran,
Dòrtadh oirnn a blàths gu'r feuman -
Ìocshlaint do a h-uile creutair
                              A tha gluasad;
Speachantachd air tighinn san eunlaith
Cumail nàimhdean far a crìochan
Gus an àl a thoirt gu tèarainte
                              Gu eirte;
Clann ag atharrais guth na cuaiche
Le cruit-chiùil air feadh nam bruachan
Toirt a ceòlraidh nall thar chuan
                              Gu treòrach inntinn;
Seillean ruadh a' saothair sunndach
Deoghal mil á uchd nam flùran -
Bruailleanachd a' dol air dìochuimhn'
Ann am blàths an Ògmhios chiataich
                              Thug dhuinn sùgradh.

AN T-IUCHAR

Feur gu àilgheas cruidh is chaorach
Fàs air achaidhean is caolshrath,
Am buachaille gun uaill no gaoid
                              Ag iomain tàine;
Gucag-bhàitht' nam bileag uaine
Fàs am measg na cuilc cho snuadhmhor -
Sann le dànadas a bhuainear
                              I bho frìth-bhac;
Uiseagan gu h-àrd sna speuran
Le'n cuid luinneagan gan gleusadh,
Meadhrachais am measg a-chéile
                              Cho sgèimh uallach;
Toradh buaile pailt ri fhaotainn,
Cuachan làn de bhainne daonnan
                              Gu ar càileachd;
Maise nàdair loinneil fhlùrach
Air a measgadh ann an ùr-fhàs
A' cur sealladh thar na dùthcha
                              A tha bòidheach,
Dealt a' priobadh oirnn cho caoin
                              Am measg nan ròsan.

AN LÙNASTAL

Abaichead a' tighinn san arbhar,
Diasan eòrn' a' fàs gu tairbhe
                              Fear na tuatha;
A h-uile creutair a tha gluasad
A' fàilteachadh na gartmhoir' suairce
   A chaidh a bhuileachadh an lànmhoir' -
   Taitneadh tiodhlaic diadhachd ghràsmhoir;
Speuran soilleir gun fiamh orr'
Saor bho pheileasaich nan sìontan,
   Làithean sona, sìtheil, soirmeil
   Saor bho aingealtachd is foireigneadh:
Fonn is aoibhneas feadh nan cluaintean,
Sunnd is gean 'nar leum 's 'nar gluasad.

AN T-SULTUINE

Meadhoin foghair drip na buana
Tional bàrr tha abaich cnuasmhor,
   Deisealachd air son nan cruachan
   Air a geàrd bho ghéire tuath-ghaoith':
Iodhlannan a' sealltainn saoibhir
Le pailteas co-roinn chruidh laoigh is ghamhnan;
   Frionas bheag sa ghaoith on eara-dheas
   Ag aithris caochladh tighinn san aimsir -
Neòil a' falach bhuainn na reultan,
Gealach sealgair anns na speuran
Dearbhadh gu bheil spòrs taigh-céilidh
                              Teannadh dlùth dhuinn.

AN DÀMHAIR

Seargadh a' tighinn anns na blàthan,
Gach lus is flùr a' call an àilleachd,
   An dath purpaidh bòidheach greannmhor
   A dh'fhàg cho loinneil fraoch nam beanntan
A-nis a' call a dhreach bha snuadhmhor
Ann an osag na gaoith' tuatha;
   Cuid dhen aimsir ciatach tìorail
   'S cuid dhith coirbt' a' maoidheadh dìoghail -
Feasgar foghair triall 'na ghluasad
Mar ruidhleadh clach ri beinn nan uain'-ghleann.

AN T-SAMHAIN

Srann clach-mheallain tighinn bhon iarmailt',
Sneachda 's clàmhainn 's aimsir fhiadhaich,
Buirbeachd na gaoith' an iar-thuath
                              Séideadh làidir;
Tuinn na mara teachd gu còrsa
A' dol 'nan still air feadh nan cròicean;
   Sad na fairge sealltainn strìtheil
   'S air am bàrran marcachd-shìne,
An cuan air a mhaistreadh measg a-chéile -
'S a dh'ainneoin a' bhirlinn a bhith làidir
Tha crann-siùil a' lùbadh ri ùmhlachd sàraich'.

AN DÙBHLACHD

A dh'ainneoin dranndail 's fead na docair
Tighinn bhon eara-dheas coirbte dòbhaidh,
   Tha Dùbhlachd ùdlaidh a' toirt àbhachd
   Is sunnd is gean air gnùis nam pàistean,
An cridheachan air mhir le sòlas
A' feitheamh bodach mór na còiread
   A' tighinn troimhn t-similear gu falachaidh -
   'S air a h-aon cha dèan e dearmad;
Sluagh a' cruinneachadh ann an càirdeas
A' toirt moladh dhan Dia as àirde
   A thug maitheanas is saorsainn
   Is sìth is sèimhe do shluagh an t-saoghail.

The Months of the Year

JANUARY

Storm and tempest and skewer of hurricanes,
Showers of snow and angry confusion,
Icy wind carving its way through the land,
                              Surly weather;
Wickedness in the skies' expression,
Squinting are clouds on the face of the sun,
Warlike dispute comes up to the surface
                              Of the elements;
The month of the wolftime has given its snarl,
Bringing an end to the winter quarter,
Ceding to time in her frantic onrush
                              Its momentum.

FEBRUARY

Along with thaw comes rain in torrents
Pouring down on us unceasing,
Rivers run in waterspouts
                              To many sea-lochs;
The distant roar of ocean waves
Lashing on the rocky cliffs
Where they've toiled without avail
                              Down through the ages;
Wretchedness seeks out each creature,
The vital spark has all but left them -
Their food's inadequate for their needs
                              In the sweeper.

MARCH

Month that's surly, merciless, and harsh,
Malicious grumbling never far from it -
Fretting with no sympathy to men
                              Or to creature;
Respectability of peace and quiet
Found no shelter round its bounds
                              In its chambers;
Bellows blowing with violent tumult
Representing the corrupted deeds
To prove it holds the sword of steel
                              Tight in its fists,
Making it clear to us with dearth
                              That it is March.

APRIL

Change of weather and longer light,
Mildness and the peace of joy,
Casting unkind ugliness
                              Away on high;
Mountain streams' melodious murmuring
Running gently through lovely meadow
Stirring up the sand and gravel
                              Over shingle;
The speckled lapwing who beats for beauty
Any bird that has brought shell to life
                              Or to fulfilment
Builds her nest amongst the grass
                              And works hard to live.

MAY

Month of happiness and kindness
That bears the special virgin's name
On which my optimism's foundations
                              Are established;
Grazing for cattle and for sheep
Which nibble grass amongst the beauties
                              Of fields and plains;
Calves and lambs are dashing madly
Playing so free in summer's dew,
The milkmaid with her haughty steps
Going to milk white-shouldered cattle
                              On the shieling.

JUNE

The sun rules gloriously in the skies,
Pouring her warmth on us for our needs -
Medicine for every creature
                              That is moving;
Waspishness in birds' behaviour
Keeping enemies off their bounds
So that they can safely bring
                              Their brood to strength;
Children mimic the voice of the cuckoo
Who with her lyre around the braes
Has brought her music across the sea
                              To inspire the mind;
Yellow bumble-bee cheerfully toiling
To suck the honey from bosoms of flowers -
Melancholy thoughts are being forgotten
In the warmth of beautiful June
                              That's given us joy.

JULY

Grass to the taste of cows and sheep
Growing upon fields and narrow strath,
The herdboy unspoilt and unblemished
                              Driving cattle;
The water-lily with its pale green leaves
Growing amongst the elegant reeds -
It takes audacity to pluck
                              Her from her barb;
Larks on high up in the skies
Busy practising their ditties,
Frolicking amongst each other
                              So fair and proud;
Yield of cowfold in abundance,
Cups at all times full of milk
                              To satisfy us;
Nature's rampant flowering beauty
Mixed together with growth that's new
Making the countryside appear
                              Quite beautiful,
With dew that gently winks at us
                              Amongst the roses.

AUGUST

Ripeness comes upon the oats,
While ears of barley grow to meet
                              The landsman's needs;
Every creature that's astir
Welcomes the kind munificence
   That's been liberally bestowed -
   The pleasure of the gift of a gracious deity;
Clear skies without a trace of gloom
Free from the pestering of storms,
   Happy, peaceful, harmonious days
   Free from wickedness and violence:
Delight and cheer throughout the fields,
Content and joy in our spring and our walk.

SEPTEMBER

Haste of reaping in mid-autumn
Gathering crop that's ripe and fruitful,
   The preparations for the cornstacks
   Guarded from the north wind's sting:
Cornyards looking well-endowed
With plenty to share for milk cows and stirks;
   A little snarl in the south-east wind
   Reveals a change to come in the weather -
The stars concealed from us by clouds,
While in the skies the hunter's moon
Proves that ceilidh-house entertainment
                              Is coming near us.

OCTOBER

Withering comes upon the blooms,
Each herb and flower is drained of beauty,
   The neat and lovely purple hue
   That left the heather of the hills so pretty
Now loses its colourful appearance
In the gust of the northerly breeze;
   Some of the weather is lovely and dry
   And some of it perversely threatens vengeance -
The autumn evening goes in its momentum
As a stone would roll down a hill of green glens.

NOVEMBER

A rattle of hailstones comes from the sky,
Snow and sleet and boisterous weather,
The wildness of a north-westerly wind
                              Blowing strongly;
The waves of the ocean come in to the shore
Whipped into spouts around weed-covered rocks;
   The breaking wavetops appear aggressive
   With spindrift running along their tips,
The sea's being churned and is all in confusion -
And despite the birlinn being sturdily built
Her mast bows humbly to the oppressor.

DECEMBER

For all the troublesome growling and whistling
Coming from the south-east vicious and unruly,
   Gloomy December brings with it merriment
   And happiness and cheer to children's faces,
Their hearts going into spasms of delight
As they wait for the big old man of kindness
   Coming secretly through the chimney -
   And never a child will he ever forget;
People gather together in friendship
Giving praise to God in the highest
   Who brought forgiveness and redemption
   And peace and serenity to all mankind.