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Ruith's a mhonadh
Ruith nam beann
'S mar sin dhan sgoil aig deireadh samhraidh
'Nar clann
Aig coig bliadhna dh'aois
'S gun facal beurla 'nar ceann

Seo do leabhar,
Sea do pheann.
"Dean do leasan", thuirt iad riumsa,
"'S gunn eirich sibh suas anns an t-saoghal
'S gheibh sibh an adhart ann."

Fichead bliadhna'airson firinn
B'fheudar dhomh feitheamh
'S b'fheudar dhomh lorg
Fichead bliadhn' de bhreugan
Thug iad eachdraidh air falbh bhuainn.

Dh'ionnsaich sinn a leithid ann
Canan's bardachd, bardachd Bheurla
Ceol na Gearmailt
Eachdraidh na Spainnt
'S b'e sin an eachdraidh mheallt

Bhon sgoil do'n oilthigh chaidh sinn ann
A' leantail foghlum, tuilleadh foghlum
Mar amadan air deiradh streang
Seorsa de dh'fhoghlum 'nam cheann

Fichead bliadhna'airson firinn
B'fheudar dhomh feitheamh
'S b'fheudar dhomh lorg
Fichead bliadhn' de bhreugan
Thug iad eachdraidh air falbh bhuainn.

Ach dh'eirich mi suas anns an t-saoghal
Fhuair mi deise, 's fhuair mi leine
Fhuair mi aite ann an suilean dhaoin
Fada bhon mhonadh mi'n drasd

Carson a chum iad eadchraidh bhuainn
Innsidh mi dhut, tha iad gealltach
Mas eirich clann nan Gaidheal suas
Le ceistean sireach is cruaidh

Fichead bliadhna'airson firinn
B'fheudar dhomh feitheamh
'S b'fheudar dhomh lorg
Fichead bliadhn' de bhreugan
Thug iad eachdraidh air falbh bhuainn.

Nuair a thoisich mi air lorg
Cha do chreid mi mo shuilean
Obair olc.

"S iomadh rud a chunnaic mi ri mo latha agus ri mo linn. Chunna mi na mnathan a cur na cloinne anns na cairtean a bha dh'an cur o'n Iochdar agus o Bheinne Bhadla. Am fir phosda ceangailte ri'n taobh gun chomas laimh cuideachidh a thoir dhaibh. chunna mi na fir mhora laidir, ceatharnaich an t-saoghail, dh'an ceangan air ceidhe Loch Baghasdail agus dh'an tilgeil ann an luing mar an crodh.Dh'fhalbh iad uile gu straidean Ghlasacho agus gu fasaichean Chanada, a'chuid dhiubh nach do bhasaich le acras agus le plaigh a dol a null air a'chuain. Aig Dia nan dul agus aige-san a mhain tha fios air obair ghrineil dhaoine an la ud."

Fichead bliadhn' 's mi aineolach.
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Running in the moors
Running in the hills
And then to school at the end of summer
Children,
Five years of age,
Without a word of English in my head

Here is your book,
Here is your pen.
"Study hard", that's what they told me,
"And you will rise up in the world,
You will get ahead."

Twenty years for the truth
I had to wait
I had to search
Twenty years of lies
They denied me knowledge of myself.

I learned many things
The English language, the poetry of England
The music of Germany
The history of Spain
And even that was a false history

Then on to further education
Following education, more education
Like idiots on the end of a string
Our heads filled with a sort of learning

Twenty years for the truth
I had to wait
I had to search
Twenty years of lies
They denied me knowledge of myself.

And I did rise in the world
I found my suit, I found my shirt
I found a place in the eyes of men
Well away from the freedom of the moor

But why did they keep our history from us?
I'll tell you they are frightened
In case the Gaels rise
With searching and penetrating questions.

Twenty years for the truth
I had to wait
I had to search
Twenty years of lies
They denied me knowledge of myself.

When I started searching
I could not believe my eyes,
evil works.

"Many a thing I have seen in my own day and generation. Many a thing. O Mary Mother of the black sorrow. I have seen the townships swept, and the holdings being made of them. The people being driven out of the countryside to the streets of Glasgow and to the wilds of Canada, such as them that did not die of hunger and plague and smallpox while going across the ocean. I have seen the women putting the children in the carts which were being sent from Benbecula and the Iochdar to Loch Boisdale, while their husbands lay bound in the pen and were weeping beside them, without power to give them a helping hand, though the women themselves were crying aloud and their little children wailing like to break their hearts. I have seen the big strong men, the champions of the countryside, the stalwarts of the world, being bound on Loch Boisdale quay and cast into the ships as would be done to a batch of horses or cattle in the boat. The bailiffs and the constable and the policemen gathered behind them in pursuit of them. The God of life and He only knows all the loathsome work of men on that day."

Twenty years and I have not been informed