Yes.......Gaelic was a hobby of mine years ago.........but here's the deal........few ever speak it here or abroad and then you have the entire colloquial thing to deal with too. So far as Carmichael's work is concerned, I did not imply that you should mine it, however..you would probably be amazed at the topical diversity that the Highlander's incorporated into their poetic side. Some I recall of course are the standard blessings one would assume such as traveling mercies or thanksgivings for a good harvest or hunt...........but consider..........blessings for the warmth of fire, the stillness of water, coming of age or the flip side crone-ing as they would put it. So I used to consider their participation in the entire movement of every aspect of life as a form of awareness and mystic perception. Remember a mystery is something once hidden, but now disclosed.
The other thing that I found, at least in my old version was how they related to death, grief and sorrow......a part of life and inevitable, not to be mourned, but merely an occasion for biding farewell to a dear one until another day and it goes on and on....
All that used to get my creative thinking going.......what would a song about warmth in the midst of bone chilling cold have for a lyric.......or what about a cool taste of water while harvesting a field, or what sort of greeting would you give a dear departed one should he or she appear in the minds eye or on a lonely highway or upon your arrival to the land wherein they reside?
I once held a Poetry reading after a hurricane in my Parish. It was directed by a band of poets and writers that frequented that old church from time to time.......it was titled, "Mourning the Trees." Most all of those poets were of Gaelic orientation and they sang, read, recited and granted wisdom to those who were still reeling from a nasty hurricane that really wrecked our Island years ago. So here is an event that happened during that storm.........
The Sanctuary in my Parish was was built in the late 1800's and had a great high tower on it............the sides of that tower had six great openings covered with Bahama shutters. The storm blew for 5 or 6 hours and since it had come up through Cuba it brought with it all sorts of birds, in fact thousands of brilliant tiny finches.........yellow, gold, green and blue. The storm blew 100's them through the shutters and into the main part of the sanctuary. When I opened the doors and huge windows, they flew round and round, like a giant tornado and headed out into the clear sky. One came back flew around my head, looked me in the eye offered a tiny incantation and joined his fast scattering pals.
So as Lyric Poet, which is what you are..........how would an old Scott put that to verse and song? Carmichael's highlanders would see a mystery in that..would it be a parting song, a thanksgiving bard or mourning greeting? The average parish member I had saw no mystery, just wondered where they might have dumped and did they do any damage. No awareness of life's mystery or the hidden blessings observation can reveal.
My old neighbor, a poet and song writer of genuine renown and immense popularity, said when he heard the story..........."Of course." Bless him he's gone now........remember, the song, "A Boy Named Sue" or the book, "A Light in the Atttic." He was one genius who captured it all and every time he presented an old tune or poem it had to be a fresh in the mind and heart as the day it was written ........I could go on, but, more than enough said..............
updated by @salt-springs: 05/29/16 11:07:25PM
copyrightterm and pd in the US January 2016.pdf - 525KB
I do really enjoy your work. Keep it up.