In the lands of heather and mist,
In the hands of the makar,
In the songs of the hills,
From lochs to highlands,
Words become landscapes,
And the whispers of the rivers,
Echoes of history blend with the present,
Painted with the hues of emotion,
The makar finds his muse,
In verses crafted with care,
Each line a brushstroke of life,
From the ancient sagas,
To the pulse of modern streets,
He weaves the threads of time,
Each word a testament,
To the beauty and struggle of the land,
His verses bridge the divide,
In the essence of Scotland’s grace,
Between past and future realms,
An ode to Scotland’s heart,
He battles the silence,
From the rugged coastlines,
With the pen as his sword,
In the makar’s timeless song,
To the bustling towns,
Filling the air with music,
His words are the heartbeat,
Through the valleys and the glens,
A storyteller of the land,
The makar’s role,
A beacon of wisdom,
His voice carries the spirit,
Of every season, every change,
Guiding the hearts of many,
A bridge across time,
Of a nation’s soul,
The legacy of the makar,
Resonating through the ages,
Uniting the spirit of Scotland,
In verses that never age.