Scottish Gaelic a language forgotten

There is something in ones DNA that calls us to the land of our ancestors, deeply embedded in our genetic make-up that tells us that our ancestors came from a far away land. A land if myths, legendary hero’s a land that calls to our spirit that there is a place besides the fireplace a warm place at the hearth kept for us.
A home far from where we live, a place that we forget a people dispersed across the planetary globe, once a small northern nation speaking a tongue that was not English, but a purer tongue not mixed with others until very late
Now our clans dispersed, our tongue forgotten even forbidden
Why should we blush like a new bride when exposed to her grooms warhead.
When we dare to speak out against those who prefer England and find to our surprise that the butcher of Caulldon  has done his work when the people of Scotland use the word minority to describe their ancient tongue.
No what is to distinguish a Mac from a Smith or Jones when the Scottish try and be more English then the English.
Scottish wees and kens are nae Gaelic, and when a child of Scotland says I have no Gaelic.
That’s like a Frenchman saying I was born in France but I don’t know how to speak French.

Tha rudeigin ann an fheadhainn DNA gun gairm dhuinn gu tìr ar sinnsearan, freumhan domhainn ann an ar dèanamh ginteil a tha ag innse dhuinn gun robh ar sinnsearan a thàinig bho cho fada air falbh fearainn. Tha am fearann ​​mura h-uirsgeulan, sgeulach ghaisgich fearann ​​a ‘gairm gu ar spiorad gu bheil àite a thuilleadh air an teallach chridheil àite aig na cagailte air an cumail airson thugainn.
A dachaigh fada bho far a bheil sinn a ‘fuireach, an àite gu bheil sinn a’ dìochuimhneachadh sluagh sgapte air feadh an t-saoghail planaidean, aon uair ‘s beag an ceann a tuath dùthcha a’ bruidhinn teanga nach robh Beurla, ach purer teanga nach measgta le feadhainn eile gus glè anmoch
A-nis sgapte againn cinnidhean, ar teanga Forgotten fiù ‘s a thoirmeasg
Carson a bu chòir dhuinn athaidh mar nuadh-phòsta nuair a tha fosgailte don a h-eich warhead.
Nuair a tha sinn a ‘Siuthad a’ bruidhinn a-mach an aghaidh an fheadhainn a b ‘fheàrr leat an Sasainn agus a lorg gus ar n-iongnadh gu bheil am bùidsear de Caulldon air a dhèanamh air an obair aige nuair a fhuair muinntir na h-Alba a’ cleachdadh an fhacail airson mion-innse aca seann teanga.
No dè tha eadar-dhealachadh Mac a ‘Ghobhainn bho no Jones nuair na h-Alba a’ feuchainn agus a bhith nas Beurla an uair sin a ‘Bheurla.
Wees na h-Alba agus tha kens nae Gàidhlig, agus nuair a leanabh na h-Alba ag ràdh Chan eil Gàidhlig agam.
Sin mar Fhrangaich Abairt Rugadh mi ann an Fhraing ach chan eil fhios agam ciamar a bruidhinn Fraingis.

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Author: The sarejessian

52 YEAR OLD ARTIST WRITER, COMPOSER AND HISTORIAN FROM SOUTH AFRICA. STUDENT OF HISTORY, TIME WALKER, AUTHOR, WALKER AFTER JESUS, CHRISTIAN, DYSLEXIC WONDER, PROUD OF MY SCOTTISH HERITAGE FAMILY Genealogist, Member of the totally normal maladjusted family of man. Anti Evolutionist, Inventor, Thinker, Musical instrument maker AS BILLY SHAKESPEARE WOULD HAVE SAID STICK WITH ME BABY AND ILL MAKE YOU USE YOUR MIND TO THINK.

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