Columcille in Exile
My heart is broken in two for love of my beautiful land. If death
should suddenly take me, the cause is grief for my home.
If all Alba were mine, from its centre out to its coast, I would
gladly exchange it for a field in a valley of Durrow or Derry.
Carry westwards my blessing, to Eire carry my love. Yet carry also my
blessing east to the shores of Alba.