I am weary of the speakers of English - Màiri Mhór

I am weary of the speakers of English
I long for some warmth and music
I am truly tired of the speakers of English

I dreamt I saw soldiers
closing in around me
in my nightmare, the Captain Turner
and the ladies: I jumped up in terror

They gave me stone slabs
to walk on, a board for a pillow
A clear conscience helped me then
protected me, kept out all harm

It was good that I felt no guilt
My conscience wasn't choking me
That was what kept me going
when I was in my deep despair

Our land is defiled by sheep
coming up from the South like a plague
There's not a creature that moves
not tormented and torn apart

That was not what I was used to
from the kindly people I knew
They helped each other
They found warmth in being together

Now they're driven over the ocean
by hard-hearted men
No cattle to be heard in the pasture
no herdsmen to call them home

Gone are the kindest of people,
their joys, their songs, their ceilidhs
Where their homes were
now deer run

Where the people lived
now sheep—
a shepherd on every hill
and barking dogs on the moor.

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Màiri Mhór (Mary MacPherson) (1821-1898) Scotland
Translated by John McGrath and Simon MacKenzie
Source: Sedulia's translations