23 Poems In Scots From The Wound Man Poem by Sheena Blackhall

1.Flooer o Scotland
He stude in the mids o Aiberdeen
Wi his briest like a cushie doo
Blawin the pipes till his chooks war reid
Like a bubblyjock wi flu

In haar or sleet, in Biblical weet
His puddens o shanks on view
The skreich frae his pipes near gart ye greet
Nae ilkie note rang true

Bit he swung his kilt wi a vaultie lilt
As the fowk o the toon wauked ben
His hair wis reid as a cockerel’s caimb
An he busked wi the virr o ten

Ye hid tae admire his smeddum, whyles
For the smush frae the warld’s pooch
Wikk in, wikk oot, an eident chiel
He’d rather play nor mooch

The referendum wis barely by
At his staunce…as sure’s I’m leevin
A heeze o saltires an flooers appeared
I jeloused the toon wis grievin
The chaunce tae cut the babbie-towes
Frae England….bit thocht’s deceivin

Syne I heard that the piper’d drappit doon
A flooer o Scotland deid
‘Ah weel, ’ quo a Tory, passin by
Thon’s ae less mou tae feed.’


2.Portrait o ma Faither
Ma faither’s hair wis blaik’s Auld Clootie’s westcoat
His ee wis a midnicht moch on a swatch o fern
His vyce wis a lintie, lowsin its sang at day-brakk
His smile wis a florin, birlin luck side up
His roose wis a roarin linn gang ram-stam doon
His nails war hauf meens sunk in a bed o pearls
His luv wis a moat, a keep, the flag abeen it
His ribs war the cage that raxxed tae haud me safe
His hairt wis stoot is a muckle widlan aik

Fin they laired his aisse in the yird, frae yont the mools
I fancied his braith raise up like Papal rikk
I sooked it in, his heirskip an his marra
A mellin o past an present, gyangun forrit


3.Tint Dreams (Welsh traditional verse,17th C.)
I thocht gin I should mairry
I’d hae naethin bit daunce an sang
Fit dae I hae, noo that I’m wad
Bit showdin the bairn, lee-lang


4.Day’s Eyn (Welsh traditional verse,17th C)
Wi the nicht, the hoose grows derk
Wi the nicht comes caunle-flame
Wi the nicht, play’s at an eyn
Wi the nicht comes Daddy hame

5.Auld Age (John Morris Jones,1864-1929)
Auld comes nae alane
It comes wi wae an sorra
Wi a lang waukin noo
Wi a lang sleep the morra

6.For a Grave at Trawsfynydd (David Jones of Llangwyfen,18th C.)
I’m eeseless noo
Gin they cry me hame
I canna makk repon
For the blaik cauld clarty mools o Trawsfynydd
Is happin ma heid


7.Ma Dearie (Welsh, traditional verse,17th C)
Thon’s ma dearie, blythe starnie
Flooer o the pairish o Llangeinwen
Aneth her fit the girse nae mair boos doon
Than dis a steen unner a birdie’s taes


8. At the Swallow Falls
(The Welsh charge £1.50 to pass a turn style to view this modest waterfall)

I’ve seen mair watter poor frae the tap
Twa runnles o weet an a drap
Fit’s the Welsh wird for con?
Oor gweed Scots Dee and Don
Are free, withoot ae siller-trap

9.Owersett in Scots of ‘A Lullaby for Lir’s Son’
from a poem by Eavan Boland

O nurse, fin I wis a bigsy loon
Forcey Februar wins war rypin gowd
Ooto the crocii. Thonner in wae
Fur aa the bonnie skyrie flooers
I’d skrl ‘Stop thief! ’
An ye wad fusper, ‘Bairn, lat be, lat be.’

Betimes we’d chaunce upon a halflin tree
Tae fin the cranreuch cauld suppin its new bluid
I’d jyne airms roon its wizzent wid
An greet an ye wad say, ‘Noo bairn,
Its place is in the spirkin hairth, nae in yer bosie.’

An ae foreneen in April, that wis fu
O matin tunes, a nest o gorblins skailed
An slippt their flooerin anchor in a gale
I cupped ane in ma fingers, deid an smaa
Bit late thon nicht ye cam tae me on tiptoe
An fuspered, ‘bairn, bairn, the wins maun blaw’


10.Owersett in Scots o an Extract from ‘De Puera Balbutiente’
(on a Child Learning to Talk) by Thomas Bastard 1566–1618
The alphabet is searched for letters saft
Tae try a wird afore it can be vrocht
An fin it sliders oot, it gyangs as nice
As fin a cheil gaes waukin on the ice.


11.Owersett in Scots o a poem bi Mary & Charles Lamb
A bairn’s a plaything fur an oor
Its bonnie ploys we try
For thon, or for a langer whyle
Syne wearied, pit it by

Bit I ken ane that bi itsel
Aa Sizzens cd control
That wad hae drawn aa grue an wae
Ooto a dowie sowel

Ye lowper intae luvin airms
Young sclimmer upopn knees
Fin I forget yer thoosan weys
Syne life itsel will cease


12.Owersett in Scots of ‘I stepped from Plank to Plank’ by Emily Dickinson
I stepped frae brod tae brod
A slaw an cannie wey
The starnies roon ma heid I felt
Sea, at ma feet doonbye

I kent na bit the neist
Wad be ma hinmaist inch
Thon gaed tae me thon shoogly gait
Fowk caa experience


13. The Jinkin Poems
Teetin aboot…see thon’s a poem
Ahin the nettles, settin yer harns ableeze

Anither’s hunkerin doon aneth the lamppost
Beein peed on bi a gangrel, teethless tyke

Takk tent: there’s a bosker
Drappin ooto a Chinese lassie’s pooch
Lowpin ontae her schule-buik poem in Scots!


14. Poem in ma 67th Year
The birthday caunles o ma life
Burn yet, in myndin o the deid
Fa wauked wi me pairt o the wey
An noo weir gravesteens at their heid


15. The Hoose o the Literary Wumman
The kitchie brod’s a cowp o veg an parins,
A mixter maxter o ashets, ready meals
An sotter, a kirn o keech.
The pantry’s bare’s the scoored
Dowp o a boar, shaved fur the spit

Her littlin’s snoot is rinnin
Wi snotters an bogies
The fleer’s unswypit,
A hotterel o moosewabs an stoor
Claes lie clarty an wrinkled on the fleer
Like prunes trod flat in the dubs

Her auldest loon has a hudderie heid, hame-clippit
Her dother’s weirin pirled socks neth her waldies

The literary wumman’s abeen hoosewifely ferlies
She bides in a permanent dwaum o Plath an Mahler
She’d niver takk selfies flashin her hingin titties
Her carpets hinna bin swypt twa years or mair


16.Random in Dundee (Snippet of Overheard Conversation)
‘Japanese collectibles
Jist doon a wee street in Dundee
Chrissie’d love that, ’ she said.


17. Shaman’s Drum
It’s gloamin time, as warm’s a plate o broth
The ferm dug’s lyin flechin in the strae
Hauf-lichtit moose-wabs shoogle in the neuks
Abeen a besom, ower the dubby hey

The biggin guffs o sharn, sliced neeps an girse
Wee winnocks glent like flashin spirks o fire
Laidders o sun drap frae the lift tae fleer
There’s nocht as haly as a waukrife byre

Squallichin rattens flee as milkers cam
On horn feet, their piebald hochs like howes
The was, the staas, welcome their bovine queens
Dirdin in frae the parks, their horny moos
An sappy snoots, hauf beeriet in their trochs
Their raxxin dowps let piddles doon in lochs

Siller hoses snake tae rug an sook
The sweet fite milk frae ilkie breet’s swalled udder
Chynes clink as teats are dichtit clean o yird
A kicker’s tail is twistit like a rudder

Whylst I haun-milk ma uncle’s Jersey pet
Heid on her hide, her hairt a shaman’s drum
A pleisur tae sit close as braith itsel
Sic souns as thon, echo the Cosmic thrum


18.The Flicht o Isobel Scudder
Isobel Scudder harnessed gulls
An intae the air she flew
An ower tae the Back o Beyond she gaed
Far niver God’s lilies grew
An there she has kissed Auld Clootie’s dowp
An cheenged tae a futterat sleek
An sookit the bluid frae the briests o bairns
An daunced in Hell Fire’s reek

They catched an tried her, an her fiers
An fried her in public sicht
Bit the gulls brakk free an they dog us yet
That gaed Isobel Scudder flicht


19.Twenty Spurgies
Twenty spurgies nestin ae dawn
Chirpity cheep cried aa
Set aff tae luik for thiggin tae scraun
A spurgie’s life is braa!

Some catched a cushie, an wi a shears
Chirpity Cheep cried aa
Her feathers they cuttit, nae heedin her tears
A spurgie’s life is braa

Some rypit the strae frae a fermer’s park
Chirpity Cheep cried aa
For a saft duvet fin the warld turned dark
A spurgie’s life is braa

Some nippit the oo frae a wyver’s loom
Chirpity Cheep cried aa
For a birdie’s bield maun be saft’s the womb
A spurgie’s life is braa

Some wheeched the paper ooto a pyoke
Chirpity Cheep cried aa
Tae read the news, like a scholar’s cloak
A spurgie’s life is braa


20.Peacock Amang the Spurgies
There’s a peacock amang the spurgies
Her hair’s as sheeny’s a Rani’s silken sari

Her jet een skinkle
Her fite young teeth are pearlins
Aside the peelie wallies o her peers
She luiks like a butter baa o health

Luv smiles fae the buttons o her cardie
Ironed an clean as the trig pleats o her skirt

‘In India, I saw a yellow snake
Slide on the mud floor of my granny’s house’
She tells the nursery, blithesome.

Aside her a snot-nebbed quine
Strae hair huddrie, herborin flechs
Cowps san fae a plastic pail
In seelence, a peetifu vratch

Twa gems, bit jist ain polished

22.A Scots Owerset o an Extract frae Scunnersome Ferlies (Hateful Things) , screived in the Pillow Buik, a Japanese classic, bi Sei Shonagon (c966-1017) , a lady-in-waitin tae the Empress Sadako.

Scunnersome Ferlies
Yer thrang tae leave,
Bit yer veesitor winna stop claikin

An ordnar chiel
Spikks o a rowth o subjecks
As tho he kent aathin

Tae envy ithers
An girn aboot yer ain weird

Tae spikk ill aboot fowk
Tae be ill-faschent aboot smaa maitters

Yer aboot tae hear
Aboot byordnar news
Fin a bairn’s greetin

A flicht o craas cercle wi lood caas.

A luver sneaks in fur a tryst
Bit a dug catches sicht o him an bowfs
Ye feel like killin the breet.

Yer aboot tae gyang tae bed
Aboot tae drap aff
Fin a mozzie appears wi its thin skreich
Ye can feel the win vrocht bi its wings,
Slicht though it is, it’s byordnar scunnersome

Yer richt in the mids o a tale fin someone butts in
Makkin oot they’re the anely fowk in the chaumer
Sic a body (or bairn) is scunnersome,
Fa ettles tae shove thirsels forrit

A moose is a scunner..a moose
That skitters aa ower the place
Flechs are likewise a scunner
Dauncin aboot aneth a body’s claes
They seem tae be heistin them up

A chiel yer haein a fling wi
Reezin oot a wumman he eesed tae ken
Thon can be vexin ower aa

23. Hae Ye?
Hae ye iver misfittit a nettle?
Hae ye aince gart an ingin greet?
Hae ye iver kinoodled a lamp post
On the cassies ower the street?

Hae ye iver daunced wi a puddock?
Hae ye iver shot a sorbet?
Hae ye iver supped wi a fitbaa?
Crivvens! Mebbe ye hae!