THIS IS HOW IT FEELS WHEN THE STR8 GUY FROM HIGH SCHOOL DMS U ON SNAPCHAT AND ASKS U FOR $

Best of Tays unreleased

The Diary of Me - Taylor Swift

Eras Tour Surprise Songs

Mad Woman Live Taylor Swift The Eras Tour

Shake It Off (Acoustic Demo) - Taylor Swift

Taylor Swift - You All Over Me

Taylor Swift - Wait For Me

Taylor Swift - The Outside

Taylor Swift - Thats When

Taylor Swift - One Thing / Bye Bye Baby

Taylor Swift - Need You Now

Unreleased

Fearless (Demo) - Taylor Swift

Red - Sessions

Come Back Be Here (Demo) - Taylor Swift

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus - Taylor Swift (Eras Tour)



Scottish Gaelic:

Thàinig a’ ghaoth thar a’ chladach sàmhach,
blas na mara innte, geur is fionnar,
gun bhrùthadh ghuthan, cas-cheuman air chall.
Laigh an cuan airgid thairis air an iarmailt,
grian a’ priobadh air a’ ghlainne chiùin—
ach a-mhàin glaodhan nan fhaoileag, iomadh-shruthach,
eadar na creagan far an cùm am fraoch grèim.

Fo mo chasan, gainmheach geal mar chnàmh,
chan e clach-ghràin, no sìol-cloiche aosmhor,
ach sligean briste, sèidte le grèin’ is sìor-uair,
a’ giùlan beatha uair, a-nis duslach air a’ tràigh.
Lùb mi, thog mi beagan—lìon mi vial,
gus cuimhne a ghleidheadh an aghaidh nan linn.
Ach bidh ùine gun tròcair, a’ caitheamh gach nì,
mar a bheir an tonn air ais na ghabh làmh a chumail.

Ach mairidh an t-ainm. Air tìr fad às
tha e ’na dhachaigh dhomh, ged nach eil
tùir no sràidean a’ briseadh na speuran an seo.
An àite sin, tha na beanntan a’ cromadh gu ciùin,
agus cumaidh an t-sàmhchair an t-àile,
cho cinnteach ri slighe na tuinne,
a’ snaidheadh na creige cruaidhe ri taobh a’ chuain.

Bh’ agam ri slighe fhada a dhèanamh,
tarsainn bheanntan far a bheil na fèidh a’ falbh,
tarsainn fhàsaichean le gainmheach de dh’ùir,
tro bhailtean sràideach, rathaidean leantainneach,
bàtaichean a’ dol thairis air cuantan farsaing,
gus an do ràinig mi an tràigh seo,
calm, bàn, gun lorg nan casan eile.

Sheas mi leam fhìn far an do choisich na cinnidhean,
far an do rinn na croitearan beòshlaint chruaidh,
mus tàinig na maighstirean le iarann is teine,
’s dh’fhàg iad na glinn falamh à seinn is labhairt.
Ach tha guthan fhathast anns a’ ghaoth,
cànan air chall, no air a ghiùlan thairis,
far a bheil gaoth nam blàran a’ seinn tro fhèur cèin.

Agus a-nis, eadar dà Chalagair,
aon cheangailte ri aibhnichean, iarann is cloich,
fear eile a’ cromadh don chuan,
far a bheil na sligean geala fhathast a’ seinn an àm a dh’fhalbh.
Chaill mi an vial, ach mairidh an t-àite,
air mo chridhe sgrìobhte, gun chuing, gun chrìoch.

English translation:

The wind came over the quiet shore,
the taste of the sea in it, sharp and cool,
no voices pressed, lost footsteps.
The silver ocean lay across the sky,
Sunlight glinting on the calm glass—
except for the cries of the seagulls, many-streamed,
between the rocks where the heather holds on.

Beneath my feet, sand as white as bone,
not granite, nor ancient stone seed,
but broken shells, blown by the sun and time and again,
once carrying life, now dust on the beach.
I bent, I lifted a little—I filled a vial,
to preserve memory against the centuries.
But time is merciless, consuming everything,
how the wave brings back what the hand was able to hold.

But the name will live on. On a distant land
It's my home, even though it's not
towers or streets breaking the sky here.
Instead, the mountains bow gently,
and silence will hold the atmosphere,
as sure as the path of the wave,
carving the hard rock by the ocean.

I had a long way to go,
across the mountains where the deer roam,
across deserts with sandy soil,
through street towns, continuous roads,
ships crossing vast seas,
until I reached this beach,
calm, blank, without a trace of other feet.

I stood alone where the clans walked,
where the crofters made a hard living,
before the masters came with iron and fire,
and they left the valleys empty of singing and talking.
But there are still voices in the wind,
a language lost, or carried over,
where the wind of battles sings through foreign grass.

And now, between two Calgarys.
one connected to rivers, iron and stone,
another bowing to the sea,
where the white shells still sing of the past.
I lost the vial, but the place remains,
written on my heart, boundless, without end.


Bàgh Chalagair / Calgary Bay

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