Post by FoundlingOfDollar on Aug 26, 2004 16:47:06 GMT -6
It's been years since I've written poetry, but I do now write meditative essay. This one is very short, but it's all I have on Scotland:
My Heart's in the Highlands
-- By Rabbie Burns
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods;
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
I think I've finally changed my fiance's mind on rain. She used to unconditionally hate rain. Tonight I took her for a walk in a cool mist that fell on a warm evening: the best kind of rain. and for once, she liked it.
It's that sort of romantic rain that fits well into Celtic songs about "The Mist Covered Mountains of Home." It was the kind of rain that causes one to reminiss rather than grumble, and the kindthat tells you "you don't need an umberella."
When our family visited Dollar, Scotland, it misted on us. the town was quiet and beautiful. We went up the ridge to the aged and partially ruined castle and stood on the ramparts looking over the town where our family began almost 300 years ago. The mist continued. Before we left and drove back out of the valley, the sun came out while we were snapping a picture of the family in front of the sign reading "Dollar," and a rainbow appeared over the whole town behind us. I hope that I can take Holly there someday. I hope that I can see it again. As is, now every time I walk in a soft, cool mist I see the red bracken, the ruined castle, and the two burns flowing through the town. When I am at my home, in that mist, I feel the longing for a home, that never was my home.
My Heart's in the Highlands
-- By Rabbie Burns
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods;
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
I think I've finally changed my fiance's mind on rain. She used to unconditionally hate rain. Tonight I took her for a walk in a cool mist that fell on a warm evening: the best kind of rain. and for once, she liked it.
It's that sort of romantic rain that fits well into Celtic songs about "The Mist Covered Mountains of Home." It was the kind of rain that causes one to reminiss rather than grumble, and the kindthat tells you "you don't need an umberella."
When our family visited Dollar, Scotland, it misted on us. the town was quiet and beautiful. We went up the ridge to the aged and partially ruined castle and stood on the ramparts looking over the town where our family began almost 300 years ago. The mist continued. Before we left and drove back out of the valley, the sun came out while we were snapping a picture of the family in front of the sign reading "Dollar," and a rainbow appeared over the whole town behind us. I hope that I can take Holly there someday. I hope that I can see it again. As is, now every time I walk in a soft, cool mist I see the red bracken, the ruined castle, and the two burns flowing through the town. When I am at my home, in that mist, I feel the longing for a home, that never was my home.
Ah but it always was home and always will be. I have ancestry from the Isles and the Inverness area; but 3 seperate Cameron/Macmartin G.G Grandparents from Lochaber out of 12 Scots forbears on the paternal side of that generation. Lochaber is "home' to me in the most tangible way. I have been there once and felt totally at ease. But I also belong to Australia because I am the sixth generation here and my children's home is my home. The connection fades but it will never vanish in my lifetime. If I could not live where I do I would go there without hesitation.
