Lost Ford

(‘Translated’ from the Gaelic  (Dan Do Shean Ford) as an exercise in WritingMatters – thank you Anstey)

The Lost Ford

The dark breath could not be seen
The dark breath became her child
The dark breath surrounded the valley
and the music of the harp stirred

Why do I not hear the sound,
the sound of the Ford of Lamanach?
Why does the valley swallow my ears,
bandage my eyes?

She calls for the child of her womb
but only blackness calls back to her
The harp is still
The valley swallows all

I must find the way through the hills,
find the Black Brook that hides from me.
The spirit of Iain Shalaich calls me on
and the harp will sound again

But only the spirit of Black Angus speaks
‘Do not enter the valley
Do not seek the lost stream
Call only on my spirit’

She could not pass from the valley
for the dark breath surrounded her
In the depths of the Ford of Lamanach
she sank into her dreams