Dùthchas Beatha Poem by Fred Rik Kesner

"Dubas Baeghe"



Before ink had stained the page,

Before stone was carved by hand,

A vitality ran through mountain shadows—

That sparking breath of an ancient land.



Dùthchas Beatha, the elders sang,

The inner spark, of soil's own blood,

The soul that lingers in the heather,

The life that outlasts flame and flood.



Though centuries wore the Gaelic tongue,

And softened roots on English reed,

The memory slept in shadowed names,

A muted call, a buried seed.



Now written down as Dubas Baeghe,

It's roaming echo still remains:

The living spirit of the earth,

Unbound by time, untouched by chains.










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