Robert Burns’s love poems, with their warmth and intimacy, are among the treasures of Scottish literature. But here, from a different but noble Scottish tradition, is a powerful love poem by the Gaelic master Sorley MacLean (translated by Iain Crichton Smith).

SHORES

If we were in Talisker on the shore

where the great white foaming mouth of water

opens between two jaws as hard as flint -

the Headland of Stones and the Red Point –

I’d stand forever by the waves

renewing love out of their crumpling graves

as long as the sea would be going over

the Bay of Talisker for ever;

I would stand there by the filling tide

till Preshal bowed his stallion head.

And if the two of us were together

on the shores of Calgary in Mull

between Scotland and Tiree,

between this world and eternity,

I’d stand there till time was done

counting the sands grain by grain.

And also on Uist, on Hosta’s shore,

in the face of solitude’s fierce stare,

I’d remain standing, without sleep,

while sea were ebbing, drop by drop.

And if I were on Moidart’s shore

with you, my novelty of desire,

I’d offers this synthesis of love,

grain and water, sand and wave.

And were we by the shelves of Staffin

where the huge joyless sea is coughing

stones and boulders from its throat,

I’d build a fortified wall

against eternity’s savage howl.