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Brìgh na Bàrdachd: Dearbh-aithne

This poem is about the concept of identity. I feel this poem mirrors one of my previous poems, 'Bioran' ('Pins'), from the last full collection, in form, and the urgency that the stripped-back language hopes to convey.

It's the same spikey nakedness that reflects my innate, immutable (and, perhaps, biological and material) propensity to keep it real.

Look at the coats. Pick up a coat. Ask yourself, if it fits.

Edit: I've added the Polari version, which is still a work in progress!

Còta Ioma-dhathach Cha taghar an còta, ach an corp, a dhiùltas cuirp eu-choltach ris. Mura tig an còta dhan chorp, chan urr' a chur umad. ’S e an corp fhèin a chanas riut nach aithne dha e.

Mish of Dowry Colours

It is not the omie that lells the chemmie, but the lucoddy, which shuns the contrary. If the chemmie nishta joshes up the bod, nix zhoozh the chemmie. It is the bod, no flies, that cackles nanti will it lell it.

Coat of Many Colours It is not for you to select the coat, but for the body to reject those converse. If the coat does not fit, it cannot be worn. It is the body, itself, that won’t accept it.

#Bàrdachd #Poetry #English #Gaelic #Gàidhlig #Polari