Field of Silence/ Achadh na Sàmhchair

When the world grows loud and heavy, I close my eyes and drift away. Poppies bloom in quiet places, Promising peace without a name. Thig na flùraichean le sàmhchair mhilis, Gun fhuaim, gun chràdh, gun dleastanas. Ach tha iad mar aisling a’ cumail greim, Tha an saorsa ann an dùsgadh. Like Dorothy lost in scarlet haze, I wandered deep into the dream. But beauty holds and softly binds A silence sweeter than it seems. To wake is not a gentle thing, But I choose the path that moves. Thig na flùraichean le sàmhchair mhilis, Gun fhuaim, gun chràdh, gun dleastanas. Ach tha iad mar aisling a’ cumail greim, Tha an saorsa ann an dùsgadh.