Blazing a trail across History (poem mine)

Blaze a trail across the pages of history, do not embrace the herd mentality.
March to a different drumbeat, dance to your own music.
Do not conform to the accepted norm.

Dance in the rain, walk naked on the beach if you want, step into the gap, make a difference. Do not be a sheep, do not bleat in fear, rather shout your battle cry.
Let the pages of the ages tell of your great deeds.

Make them remember you. Fly like a shooting star across the pages of history, across the ages let your name ring true, bringing honour to all your house.

Don’t be a mouse, be brave, talk not of a noble death; for death is not noble, nor glorious just a messy and sad end to the spark of life which can burn so bright. Run like a a stallion

When in your last days as you lay gasping for one more breath and it is asked “Do you have regrets quietly say. No U have not, I have tried everything that I wanted to do, I have no regrets in some I was not successful and in others I was,
I rage not at the coming of my night.
My Star has burned brighter the universe is lighter for my having been here.

When death come do not hide in the grave yard where he will not look for you.
Rather stand in the gap one last time and when death approach be sure to check and you will see in his shadow he brings reinforcements for a life well lived and reinforced even death trembles and fears in the presence of such a life.

Now for the Gaelic Interpretation
Blaze slighe air feadh na duilleagan eachdraidh, chan eil gabhail an treud inntinn.
Màrt gu eadar-dhealaichte drumbeat, dannsa ri ceòl agad fhèin.
Chan eil rèir slatan-tomhais a ‘gabhail ris àbhaisteach.

Dannsa ann an uisge, coiseachd rùisgte air an tràigh ma tha thu ag iarraidh, ceum a-steach a ‘bheàrn, a’ dèanamh eadar-dhealachadh. Cha bhi caora, chan eil bleat ann an eagal, an àite a bhith ag èigheachd ur blàr glaodh.
Leig an duilleagan a ‘aois innse do gnìomhan mìorbhaileach.

Cuimhnich iad air a dhèanamh dhuibh. Fly mar seilg rionnag air feadh na duilleagan eachdraidh, air feadh na h-aoisean leig ur n-ainm fìor fàinne, a ‘toirt urram do na h-uile taigh agaibh.

Cha bhi luchag, fearail, a ‘bruidhinn cha uasal bàs; airson bàs chan eil uasal, ni mò glòrmhor dìreach bùrachail agus deireadh duilich ris an sradag de bheatha a dh’fhaodas a losgadh cho soilleir. Ruith mar a Stallion

Nuair ann do làithean mu dheireadh mar a tha thu Lay gasping airson aon tuilleadh anail agus thathar ag iarraidh air “A bheil aithreachas gu sàmhach ràdh. No U chan eil, tha mi air feuchainn-uile rud a bha mi ag iarraidh a dhèanamh, feumaidh mi eil aithreachas ann an cuid cha robh mi soirbheachail agus ann an daoine eile a bha mi,
Sèididh mi nach eil a ‘tighinn mo oidhche.
My Star air a losgadh gealltanaiche na cruinne-cè a tha nas aotroime do m ‘an dèidh a bhith an seo.

Nuair a thig am bàs cha bhi falach anns an uaigh gàrradh far am bi e a ‘coimhead airson nach eil thu.
An àite seasamh anns a ‘bheàrn aon turas mu dheireadh agus an uair a’ bhàis a bhith cinnteach gu bheil dòigh-obrach gus dèanamh cinnteach agus chì thu ann am faileas aige fhèin e a ‘toirt shaighdearan airson beatha gu math beò agus a’ daingneachadh fiù ‘s bàs crith agus eagalan an làthair leithid de bheatha.
Copy write and protected by the individual intellect property acts and laws of South Africa 2016 all writes property of TB Wood / Sarejess/ Sarejessian .
The owner gives consent for reproduction of the above unreservedly under 1 proviso That due recognition be given with each reproduction.

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In my heart I am thy Suitor (poetry mine)

In my heart I am thy suitor.
In my mind I know there is no chance or kind.
Oh, oh, they cry love is blind.
Bind up my wounded heart with thy kindness.
Take away my breath, lead me not to an untimed death.

Thou art the love of mine old age.
Like pink coloured ink on brown parchment.
Thou art the rising sun to my setting sun.
The light that rise before the dawn, when birds begin to sing.

NOW IN SCOTS GAELIC
Ann mo chridhe mise do tòir (bàrdachd mhèinn)

Ann mo chridhe mise do tòir.
Ann m ‘inntinn Tha fios agam nach eil cothrom no seòrsa.
Och, och, tha iad a ‘caoineadh gaoil a tha dall.
A cheangal suas mo chridhe leòn le do chairdeas.
A thoirt air falbh m ‘anail, a’ leantainn orm nach do untimed bàs.

Tusa gràdh mo shean aois.
Like dath pinc air inc dhonn parchment.
Tusa a ‘ghrian ag èirigh gu mo ghrian.
Tha an solas a tha ag èirigh an làthair an camhanaich, nuair a chaidh eòin a ‘tòiseachadh a’ seinn.