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Trodday's Trolds roam Troddays Isle Nae silence be, let be the rustling ghostly strokes The spine to tingle wrangle wringer taunt taught plight tonight No passing soul may sit with peace, restless pest The troll Trolds spirits sprites spread psst! Fill the hollow stone with milk for the Greogach call at dusk The old sprite with the trailing beard the oil to stroke with musk. On the Isle of Trold's Two miles from Skye The restless sprites roam free, Mischievous mischef mischievously magic mystic myosotis. The Old Wife Cailleach lies toward the western shore And peeps with the tide flow nest A silver crown of barnacles Silver curl around her head to nestle and to rest, The siren lures the sleepy boat The tiara's tiers lost tears To sea salt stain To cry. While the Old Man of Troddy Stretches high to clouds The tall dark western rock Bodach. The golden dawn change all, another place? Long green grass stroke wave and weave to breeze The short-grazed heather spinning honey scent To mix perfume blue scabious flowers the nostrils inhale prevail The deep green ocean pool eternity, crystal rain drops hail. Sea-gulls scream wheel wail keel plop stone to sea The gaggle of the grey lag geese Trodday by day, Island of love and peace. |
