annual gazette | 187
A Dhòmnaill Choir Rory MacLeod (1984) Rory MacLeod composed the following poem (‘Dear Donald’ in English) in honour of his father Donald MacLeod (1957) on Donald’s passing in September 2020 (see obituary p 176). (The photograph on the right shows Donald and Rory on the day when they both collected their MAs from the University of Cambridge in July 2015.) A Dhòmhnaill ‘ic Chailein ‘ic Dhòmhnaill ‘ic Dhòmhnaill ‘ic Chailein mac an t-Seanaileir ri linn Iain a’ Chùil Bhàin, deicheamh ceann-cinnidh Chloinn ‘icLeòid, tha sinn uile gad ionndrainn!
Donald son of Colin son of Donald son of Donald son of Colin, son of the General, of the line of fair-haired John, tenth chief of Clan MacLeod, we all miss you!
Ged a bha thu beag nad àirde agus màlda nad mhiannan, sheas thu gu h-àrd nar spèis a’ cur mar fhiachaibh oirnn ar meas.
Though you were small of stature and modest in your appetites, you stood tall in our estimation commanding our respect.
Nad òige, bu tu am fiadh: clis, sgiobalta, uasal. Srùth do thiodhlacan gu nàdarra, torrach mar a’ chraobh ubhal.
In youth, you were a deer: nimble, quick, noble. Your gifts flowed naturally, fruitful like the apple-tree
Cho maireannach ’s a bha e luath, bha d’ shuirghe le Ròs-Màiri seunta, a’ tionndadh paidhreadh a thàinig o nèamh gu dachaigh thalmhaidh làn gaoil.
As enduring as it was fleeting, your courting with Rosemary was enchanted turning a match that was made in heaven into an earthly home full of love.
Ged a fhritheil sibh banrigh is dùthaich, còmhla agus air feadh an t-saoghail, b’ e an rud bu mhotha a choilean sibh ath-stèidheachadh ar teaghlach san Eilean.
Though you served queen and country, together and around the world, your greatest achievement was re-establishing our family on the Island.
Sruth fìon aosta na h-aoigheachd bhon taigh aig Ceann Loch Follairt, ’s gun a bhith a’ dìochuimhneachadh roinnean fialaidh aran na fàilte.
The fine wine of hospitality flowed from the house at Kinlochfollart, and not to be forgotten were the generous helpings of the bread of hospitality.
Thèid an reis air adhart, tha an fhuil fhathast làidir, agus tha thu nad òige a-rithist mar a chunnaic mi lem shùilean fhìn…
The race continues, the blood is still strong, and you are young again as I have seen with my own eyes…
… agus bha thu a’ coimhead eireachdail!
… and you looked magnificent!
