(a free translation of Sorley MacLean’s “A Chìall ‘s a Ghràidh”)

If our language said that sense
is equivalent to love
it lied. 

When I saw your face
I had no sense of love’s
asymmetries.

When I heard your voice
it didn’t crack open my chest
at first.

But love breached, unnoticed, 
and ripped apart my keel
swept me aside like drift.

With all the judgment I had 
I made a shadow fight
an unreasonable war
until from that old hidden place 
I spoke to love, saying
neither of us is worth this.

	Love was in the house’s heart 
	reason in the elegant room
 	but the foolish door 
	between them was broken
	
and my reason said to my love:
its not for us, this doubleness
love has mixed us up.