From Our Students – Bho na h-oileanaich againn: Rick Gwynallen

Tha luchd-ionnsachaidh na Gàidhlig aig an Sgoil Gàidhlig Bhaile an Taigh Mhóir a’ dèanamh obair fìor chruthachail sa chlas agus taobh a-muigh a’ chlas.

Seo Rick Gwynallen. Tha Rick na neach-ionnsachaidh le Sgoil Gàidhlig Bhaile an Taigh Mhóir agus na cho-stèidheadair den sgoil. Tha e a’ fuireach ann am Baile an Taigh Mhóir, Tìr Màiri. Thòisich e a’ sgrìobhadh bàrdachd sa Ghàidhlig airson sùil a thoirt air a bheatha tron ​​Ghàidhlig. Seo fear de na dàin aige.

Gaelic learners at Sgoil Gàidhlig Bhaile an Taigh Mhóir are doing really creative work in class and out of class.

Meet Rick Gwynallen. Rick is a learner with Sgoil Gàidhlig Bhaile an Taigh Mhóir  and a co-founder of the school. He lives in Baltimore, Maryland. He started writing poetry in Gaelic in order to look at his life through Gaelic. Here is one of his poems.

Airson Tiota
[English below]

Bha uisge an earraich blàth agus brèagha, ach
bha an taiseachd trom airson an àma seo den bhliadhna.
Cha do mhothaich mi nuair liùg sibh a-steach.

Bha mi nam shuidhe air an fhor-uinneig,
Gàidhlig anns na leabhraichean romham,
nam bhogadh anns na facail aca, bhlais mi e,
brèagha agus brìghmhor.

Thuit iad bho na duilleagan cho furasta ri uisge earraich,
na faclan seo tha mi a’ faireachdainn gu bheil iad ùr dhomh ach eòlach fhathast.
na faclan seo tha gaol agam orra ach a’ strì riutha.

Lìon na faclan mo bhroilleach, agus airson tiota
bha Gàidhlig anns an uisge agus anns a’ ghaoith
trì mìle de mhìltean bho dhùthaich a bhreith,  
loidhne a bha a’ mòraigeadh talamh ri mo bheatha.

For a Moment

The Spring rain was warm and lovely, but
the humidity was heavy for this time of year.
I did not notice when you slipped in.

I was sitting on the balcony,
Gaelic in the books before me,
immersed in its words, the taste of it
lovely and heavy with meaning.

They fell from the pages as easy as
spring rain, these words I feel as new yet familiar,
these words I have loved but struggled with.

They filled my chest, and for a moment
Gaelic was in the rain and breeze,
three thousand miles from its place of birth,
A line mooring land to my life.