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‘S e ‘n Là Buidheachais an Fhoghair… ‘T is the Day of Thanksgiving of the Autumn…
‘S e an feasgar ‘s tha mi le boban, ‘T is the evening and I am with papa,
‘Giùlan Seanair ‘s Seanmhair Carrying Grandfather and Grandmother
Dhachaigh ‘n dèidh dhan bhiadh-fheasgair… Homewards after the evening meal…

Amhairc-! Deàrrsadh, air an fhàire…! Behold-! Shining, on the horizon…!
Thar an glinn, an laigh’ na grèine… Across the valley, the setting of the sun…
Th’ an t-sùil an lath’ ‘dùnadh romhainn… The eye of the day is closing before us…
Gun neòil, dùinidh ‘n t-sùil air là glan… Without clouds, the eye closes upon a fine day…

‘G itealaich tron t-soillse ‘m fheasgair, Flying through the evening light,
Eòin ‘nan dannsadh gun aois tron adh’r… The birds in their ageless dance through the air…
Amhairc am bàgh, ‘n t-uisge ‘n airgid… Behold the bay, the silver water…
Eòin ag itealaich ‘san laigh’ na grèine… Birds flying in the sunset…

An siubhal Grèine thar na Cruinn’, a Grian’s travel over the World, her
Soills’ gar coimhead, ‘nis, gu sìorraidh, Light watching us, now, eternally,
Deàrrsaidh Ise thar na speuran, na neòil… She shines across the heavens, the clouds…
Speuran, os cionn, saor gu sìor-bheò… The heavens, overhead, forever free…
This was written just after Thanksgiving. It has taken on much more meaning now that Grandma and Grandpa are no longer here.
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October 31, 2013
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