‘S mi ri imeachd nam aonar anns an og-mhadaim Mhaigh
Feadh leantaichean uaine mar fhear-fuadain gun stath,
Nuair a chunnaic mi a’ ghruagach an taobh shuas dhiom a’tamh
‘s i ri nigh’ a culd aodaich mach air aodann Srath Bhain.
An sin dhirich mi suas far ‘n robh gruagach mo ghraidh
Is labhair mi rithe gu siobhalta tiath;
«Tha bliadhn’ agus corr bhon a thoisich an gradh,
Is ma bhitheas tu deonach ni sinn posadh gun dail.»
«Gu posadh, gu posadh ro og tha mi ‘n drasd’-
Gu bheil teang’ aig do sheorsa dheanadh fogradh ‘s gach ait;
Gurn biodh m’athair ‘s mo mhathair gam chaindeadh gu brath
Nam posainn do leithid, O fhieasgaich gun stath.»
Ach a nionagan oga tha gun phosadh ‘s gach ait’,
Na dlutaibh fir oga le morchuis no tair.
Nach muladach dhomhsa bhith gun phosadh gu brath-
‘s fheudar fulreach nam aonar mach air aodann Srath Bhain.
(Translation) The Slopes Of Strath Ban
Walking out early alone on a morning in May
Among green fields, an outcast and purposeless,
I saw a maiden who lived some way above me
As she washed her clothes out on the slopes of Strath Ban.
I then climbed upwards to the maiden I loved
And courteously and mildly I spoke to her:
«It’s over a year since our love began,
And if you are willing we shall marry at once.»
«Marry? I’m too young to marry just now-
Your sort has a tongue that could cause trouble anywhere;
My father and mother would scold me forever more
If I were to marry the likes of you, you feckless young man.»
But you young girls everwhere who are still unmarried,
Don’t go turning young men down through pride or contempt
How sad for me to be unmarried forever more-
I’ll have to live alone, out on the slopes of Strath Ban.