The Lament Against Máel-Martin
First Poem in an Anthology
Long did the poets sing
of the remembered glories
they do still cling,
Those achieved by Causantín’s blade,
That hew’d across all Highland stories
as in foggy Lowland glades,
Neither in memory nor song
Did he, the Caleds’ wrong,
To the gnawing beast
he gave over three sons,
That others may dream and feast,
Always shining were the suns’
From summer dawn, to wintry n…