Mo bheannachd dhan bhàillidh ùr,
’S tu fhèin a choisinn an cliù
Nuair a thàinig e le thrùp
Dh’uaislean o dhùthaich MhicLeòid.
Is thàine tu led bhàirdse cruinn,
Ghabh thu timcheall air Port Rìgh;
Thogadh do shaighdearan cìs
Fhad ’s a mhaireadh strì nan dòrn.
Is thàine tu led bhàirds’ mun cuairt,
Ghabh thu timcheall ’Chinn a Tuath
Is dh’inns thu dhaibh gun gheilt gun ghruaim
Gur e ’n cuan a bha fo sròin.
Is ùr a’ chraobh on d’ rinn thu fàs,
Na bha fon talamh dhith ’s gu h-àrd
Gun mhosgan am bun no ’m bàrr
Ach an giuthas àlainn òg.
Is Dòmhnallaich sibh taobh air thaobh,
Làmh dhearg as suaicheantas dhuibh,
Long is bradan ’s leòmhann, craobh,
Gidheagan is fraoch glas òg.
My compliments to the new bailiff/factor
who earned a reputation
when he arrived with his troop
of noblemen from the land of MacLeod
You came with your barge
and went round Portree.
Your soldiers would collect tax
while the fight lasted.
You came with your barge
and went round the North End,
informing them without cowardice or gloom
that you were master of the open seas.
You are the offshoot of a vigorous tree,
in root and branch.
A beautiful young fir,
without decay in root or foliage.
You are MacDonald on both sides.
Your crest is a red hand,
a galley, a salmon, a tree, a thistle
and young green heather.
