BIRD 237 



♦' Bu-hu-hu, tha thu faoin." 

 Ars' eun maol a mhothair choir, 



" Os mise tha fiosrach 's a chuis 



Fheudail ! 's beag- an tiir tha 'd ghloir, 



Cha bheus leamsa glige-glaige, 



Chaoidh chaghabh mi tlachd do'n luath-bheul, 



Labhraidh mi 'nuair chi mi feum air, 



'S cha choisinn mo bheul dhomh bruaidlein ; 



Ach 's trie each ort fein a magadh, 



'S a liuthad glug-mhearachd bristeach 



Thaomas le cladhaireachd fhocal 



O shior-chlabar guib gun tuigse ! " 

 Bu greis (treis) dhoibh mar so chonnspoid (comhstri), 

 A' gearr-bhearradh gloir a cheile— (al. gearradh-bearradh) 

 Gus an do leuni a nuas an Glas-eun 

 'S rinn esan gach beairt (cuis) a reiteach'. 



(Al. An sin dh' eirich Fir-eun nan gleus, 

 A shiubhlas an speur gu luath, 

 Sgrog e 'phiad air a cheann, 

 'S dh' fhag e i gu fuar fann.) 

 Air gach taobh 'nuair chual' e 'chuis 

 Thuirt e riu le run gun chleth, 



" Ma's a fiach mo bhriathran eisdeachd 



So mar dheannainn fein duibh breth ; 



'S ioma barail tha 'measg sluaidh, 



'S toigh le cuid ni 's fuath le each, 



Pairt their direach na ni cuis 



'S cuid nach duraig sgur gu brath ; 



Tha am gu labhairt, 's am gu cleasachd. 



Am gu bron, 'us am gu h-abhachd ; 



'S Honmhor iad d'an ainm 'bhi tuigseach 



O'n tig mile focal cearbach, 



Corr' uair a mheasadh tu gorach 



Le tuille 's a choir de sheanachas, 



Neach g'am bi theanga fo smachd 



'S ainmig leis gu 'n gluais e lochd ; 



Saoilear gum bi an t-umaidh glic 



Nam b'eol da 'bhi trie na thosd." 



An English translation has not been found given of the above 

 by any one : the following may be accepted : — 



THE COLLOQUY OF THE BIRDS. 



When the birds spoke the Gaelic tongue 



And understood the glory of song. 



Full oft their converse in the woods 



On many a point, unless the Bard is wrong. 



Down then came the noisy magpie 



And perched on a rotten branch of a hollow alder ; 



The owl like a speckled bunch 



Opposite her, sensible and silent. 



(Al. Opposite her the owl of the crooked beak, his blinking 

 brown eye like sloe in his head.) 

 Then up started quickly the magpie 

 And said, while stamping her feet, 



" Art thou there in a heap on a thorn. 



While your silky head hangs heavy ? 



Is your tongue to be always locked 



