Gaelic Verse

Am Bus
O 's caomh leam am bus,
sa mhoch mhadainn trath
Nam shuidh' innt' sa chul,
comfhurtail's blath
ged bhiodh uisge ann a muigh,
bidh sinn doigheal's tioram
Seinnidh sinn oran,
port a beul no iorram!

Co-Chomunn an Iasgair
Tha Co-chomunn an Iasgair
as fhearr leam fon ghrein
Prisean cho reusant',
gach ni innte gu feum
Fasanan ura a Paris no Milan
Gheibh thu innte oilskin,
hoover no pram...

I wondered lonely as a clod

Torquil Farquhar de Smith

It Gets Verse

Oh Hither
Oh Hither and thither
in a dither,
goes I.
And whither
goeth the dither?
Says you.
To see my brither,
Says I.

They hang on washing lines,
and wait in drawers,
or stare from cellophane bags,
on shelves,
in shops,
like sinister beings waiting
to take over the world.
I quite like my pants though.

O Fraochy Bay
O tha Fraochy Bay boidheach's
gach ni a tha innte
Dheidhinn dhan taigh-osta
feasgar gu pinnt
Dh' olainn mo leor
de lagar 's de leann
A' dusgadh sa mhadainn le pian na mo cheann

O Fraochy Bay, mo ghaoil...
Do gharraidhean-cloiche
air an deanamh le aoil...
A bheil baile nas breagha
na thusa san t-saoghal?
Saoil a bheil?
Feumaidh nach eil!
O Fraochy Bay, baile-aoil
mo ghaoil...

Oran Rionnach Saillte
Ochoin ho ro,
hi ri, mo chaileag
Dh ithinn air truinnsear
sgadan no adag
Rionnach saillte,
sgeit no leobag;
Thid mi gu bth an eisg le cabhag!
Ochoin hi ri, ho ro, mo chaileag

Poetic tour de force Torquil Farquhar de Smith will be forever remembered for the line

No more envelopes hath I

in his epic poem
I'm going to the shop now
and it's tuesday.

Need we say any more than that?

Torquil was asked about the absence of the appropriate accents on letters in his gaelic and he said
"what's an accent?"

Now in his late 20's Torquil is beginning to show the maturity and accessibility in his poetry that is seriously lacking.

Employed by the Fraochy Bay Town Council as Poet in Residence, Torquil supplements his income by penning jingles for the local radio station.

Everyone knows there's nothing like a good poet and Torquil is nothing like a good poet.

The Sea
Oh the sea,
it speaks to me,
on a friday when I sit on the shore
patiently waiting for inspiration.
I saw a boat
out there on the rising tide,
while the sea sang a note,
it was a C,
a High C.

My Bicycle of Wonder
How can I praise enough
my bicycle of wonder,
It's splendid frame
and handlebars,
the saddle, not too soft,
not too firm,
The gears, smooth
and easy to use.
It's bright red
with little bits of blue.
I once rode my bicycle
from Oban
to Dunoon,
after which I couldn't sit doon,
(for about a week).

Craobhan anns a' ghaoith
Muinntir 'Fraochy Bay'
Cho deidheil air mo bhardachd
Sluagh leirsinneach

Craobhan anns a' ghaoith
Na duilleagan a' tuiteam
Deireadh an t-Samhraidh

Uisge air an uinneig
Chan eil kagoul orm idir
Tha mo chasan fliuch

Haiku - or Torquil Farquharku

Ate a strawberry
It rolled about on my plate
before I ate


A frog leaps into
the depths of a golden pond
or something like that


Fish and Chips
Oh how I long for the taste
of Fish and Chips,
the vinegar and salt
so shiny on my lips,
batter so crispy,
crunch crunch crunch,
for breakfast or dinner,
or supper or lunch,
perhaps on occasion
for mid-morning brunch.
Given the choice
of any place to abide,
inside a chip shop
I'd choose to reside.

Coming soon, extracts from Torquil Farquhar's new book
Extracts from the poetic wanderings (of a poet)