I remember wind-blown grass 
Under sheep's hooves and 
Sand glinting in the sun 
As sweet songs so delicately sung 
Danced between my ears. 
 
Colonsay is where my clan's from, 
Or so they say, 
Maybe moons ago it was those 
Of my blood who tended the fields 
And ate under leafy trees. 
 
Perhaps they too gazed out at Jura 
(Or whatever they called it) 
And thought just how lucky we are 
To have these rocks we call home, 
Alba, my gentle mother.