Chisholm Lament (translation)

<br>O young Charles Stewart, your cause is the reason of my sorrow<br>You took from me everything I had, in the war on your behalf<br>I am not mourning cattle and sheep, but my partner<br>Since I am left alone with nothing but my shroud!<br>I am torn apart, and although I say it, it is no lie<br>My joy turned to sorrow, since you will not return from death<br>One of your wisdom and understanding was not easy to find<br>And not one stood at Culloden, of your appearance and bravery.