The Life Bluid O Cromar (95 Scots Poems) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

1. THE CHAUMER

Hard bi the byre, Dod bothied in the chaumer
The byre, far rattens feeties nichtly pammer
An milkit kye staun chinkin in their chynes
An fuskered moosies squeak, like kittled quines

Richt o the chaumer stude the reamin midden
Left wis the peat stack, bi a binder hidden
Dockens, nettles, roosty hyews, a harra
Boorich o wandrin willies roon a barra

A lang dyke, keepin gowd corn frae the road
Far neep cairt cairriet mony's a dubby load
A road, flanked bi roch girse, an clover sweet
Far mauve an cream, the hairt-faced violets teet
Whyle ower the midden, midgies heezed abeen
Strang sham, wispit strae, an glaury steen.

Dod's doorstep wis a forum fur the hens
A cluck o matrons reengin frae their pens
Fa hottered on the bile wi fairmyaird claik
A mither's meetin, newsin on the haik.

Ower tae the park, far Hillie's reid-caimbed cock
Screiched frae a palin, Dod's alarm clock.
His tacket buits stude scrapit bare o sharn
Set up tae dry, upeyndit, in the barn

Thon bield far green-eed kittlins prowled the nicht
Fin gloamin dwined, an slippit ooto sicht.
Bide yonner. Yark the chaumer door ajee
Step in, gin ye can thole sterk poverty.

There wis ae windae, happit wi a screen
Cobwebs an stoor beglaurin ilkie peen
The windae, like a pictur on the waa
Cheenged wi the Sizzens... flooerin Spring, or snaw.

Neist tilt, a sink that wis as big's a troch
Wi ae cauld-watter tap, its plumbin, roch,
Fed bi a wall. It splootered watter oot
As weel's the antrin leaf, or girssy sproot.

Tap o the sink, a braid shelf ran abeen
An on't, a lean-tee mirror, roon's the meen
That showed the greive his mornin, blae, physog
Fin raxxin fur his blade. an mowser mug.

His heid wis bare, as roon's a peesie's egg
His neb wis roondit like a tinkler's peg
His chooks was fuskery. Hair grew frae his snoot
His skin wis pasty as a baker's cloot.

Carbolic hid him smellin like a rose
Tae sikk the fairm kitchie fur his brose.
The fairm-wife fulled his bowlie till he scunnert
Nae feed man iver left her table hungeret

At hairst time, tae the park she brocht the fly
0 buttered bannocks, tea & scones forbye
An steered the sugar smertly wi her speen
An cowped the dregs o tae-leaves ower the breem.

Spring Cleanin saw the chaumer's inside waas
Fite-washed an skinklin like an angel's braws
Steen-cauld, an besom-swypit wis the fleer
Far sat his guid sheen, buffed fur Sabbath weir.

A clootie rug ower flags wis clappit doon
Brunt bi the antrin spirk o chercoal broon
Far spittin sticks flang stobs, like angeret chiels
Frae yont Auld Nick's hett furnace, reid-chikked deils.

An iron poker, that the smith, sou-mooed
Hid vrocht, lay on the hearth, a cromack, booed.
Tae claw the mornin's aisse oot, far it lay,
A pyre o coal, a howp o poothery gray

The skuttle wis a coo's pail frae the byre
Keepin the coal, that reigned, the King o Fire
The fire itsel, a squar blaik hole, weel biggit
Wi twists o paper, kinnlers, crossed an riggit
Tae catch the evenin spunk that cracked ablow
Thon ruck o timmer, tae a lowpin lowe.

The lum wad sab, an sough, an mane, an greet
The win some nichts, blew doon a cloud o seet
Fin Winter gurred an grummlit in the lift
An roon the park blew wauchts o rikkin drift.

A bulb that swung unshaded frae the reef
Brunt like the sun, in its electric sheath
An raxxed the evenin oot tae lat him read
The papers. Gie the fairm cat a feed

He liked tae garr it purr an straik its wame
His hackit hauns wad straik it like a caimb
An syne, on a wee stove, he'd bile his tea
His fitbaa shotties fill, till closin ee
Drave him tae bed, a caff mattrass on shanks
0 iron.0 sweet clover banks
He'd dream, an o quines fite an saft as snaw
While roon the chaumer, Winter's chooks wad blaw.

Aneth the bed, there sat an auld gizunder
An trap, fur fear some moose micht sikk tae plunder
The piece bocht frae the baker fur his fly
Efter he'd rigged, an bin tae sort the kye

Twa timmer cheers stude comfortless an sterk
That held his danngers, galluses, an sark
An on a kist, far callers dowped their docks
Bedd Jimmy Shand inbye the wireless box.

A calendar wis haimmered in the plaister
He crossed the days, tae garr the wikk rinn faister
Till Sabbath saw him cycle doon the track
Fule washin fur his sister ower his back
Efter he'd mucked the byre an sortit stirks
Whyle weelshod fairmers gaithered in their kirks.

The chaumer's teem...the cottar hooses, tee.
The fairmer's yett is brukken...hung swkeejee
Swallas are reistin neth the chaumer's eaves
Thrissles creep ower the kailyaird, tarry thieves.

Nae cheery fussle rings ootower the lea.
Bit clank an chug o cauld machinery.
Fairmed bi an absent tenant. Corbies, caa.
The fairm-toun's teem. The girse, wides oweraa.


2. THE LIFE-BLUID 0 CROMAR

Snod in the lea o Morven
Bi snaw-winged Lochnagar
Fuspers the bearded barley
The life-bluid o Cromar.

Raw upon it reeshles
Far caller breezes swey
Doon amang firelit fairmtouns
Far coos-lick peesies cry,

Its gowden plumes hing wechty
As steerin souns o day
Dwine in the glaur, syne gloamin's
Saft mist, makks aathin blae.

A ripplin, reamin riverie
The barley's sang is sweet
It sings o Spring, an brierin
A warld baith wud an weet.

It sings o sun an starlicht
Rich hairst an groanin cairt
Cromar's befuskered backbeen
Its speerit, an its hairt.


3. TRYST WI A HEDGEHOG

Hinner awhyle, an gie's yer crack.
Michty! Siccan a jobby back!
Preens fur a sark, like a besom's bristle
Yer as stobby's a dykeside thrissle!

Fin danger' s near, yer heid's in yer dowp.
Tapsalteerie, ower ye cowp.


4. THE PLAID

Ballochbuie Forest, near Braemar, was sold by a Deeside MacGregor to a Farquharson for a single woollen plaid. It has been described itself, as 'the bonniest plaid in Scotland'

I hae a plaid that gleddens cauldrife gloamins
Fin wyes are wearisome, an pleisurs fyew
A plaidie, wivven on a loom o pinewid
Fas rosit needles steekt the ling wi dyew.

Sae winsome are the colours o thon plaidie
The warp is girse, the weft is yalla whin
The shuttle is the cone that wallops eident
Caad bi the fragrant pouer o the win.

The clouds are cairdit oo, as salt's a bowster
The fringes o the plaidie's bracken-broon
An oh, the happiness o its enfauldin
Bitter the sorra, o its settin doon!


5. HORNYGOLLACH GAMES

The bees are busy bizzin
A-tunin up their drones
The emmacks are a-rinnin up the knowe
The foggy bummer in his strippit semmit pechs an groans
He's the heavy fa will gar the caber rowe.

The daddylanglegs deintily, traverses a Strathspey
The forkietail's the compere in the ring
The flech's lowp is a thriller
As the gleg collecks the siller
While the leddylanners daunce the Heilan fling.

The wasp gies oot the prizes
As the slater haives the steen
The minnie-monie-feet hauds up the bar...
The muir-moch sells the pieces
(Hinney, gaithered frae the breem)
An the flees sign up, tae jyne the tug o war.

At the Hornygollachs' Gaitherin, the butterflee's the Queen
The dragonflee's the lairdie o the ling
The midgies an the wyvers sattle doon tae watch the spree
Sic a heeze o hornygollachs on the wing!


6. RAIN CYCLE

Splyter splyter
Plowp plowp
See the dauncin raindraps lowp!

Plink plunk
Doon the drain
Frae cloud, tae lan, tae sea again!


7. TOWRISTS

Manna-bringin, true-blue Uncle Sam
Dollar spennin hame tae Alabam.
'WE'VE DONE PITFODDELS. HOWDIE AMSTERDAM'


8. TOUN AN KINTRA

Peely wally
Basic wages
Battery chuckens
Kept in cages.
Processed like a tin o sprats
Battery fowk in high rise flats.


9. MACCAIG

Frae Assynt tae Assissi
This Scots Vermeer o the pen
Cameos fairm an fountain
Freudian labyrinth an Buddhist puddock
An oyster, coddlin Suliven
Biggin a Surreal Causeway
Frae ee tae mind
Wird snashots...
Gael MacGog.


10. FAITHER'S LILTIN

Lythe leaves in the lush meadow o his airs
Wud notes drapped sweet as geans his hale lay lang
The mavis stopped her wheeplin fin he'd lilt
Sae gowden, the Strathspeys ma faither sang.


11.TRAIVELLER'S BALLAD

Green Aprils's tendrils...luv, an langin furlin
Strung on a lyre, an thon lyre in his throat
Strummin an air, that dauchles, lowsed an trimmlin
Auld as the starns yon ballad. Larned bi rote.

Sprung frae a wallie, rinnin deep inside
It raise like ony rainbow, in the room
As the roe deer, throw gloamins, eildritch, glides
0 itherwarlds he sang, far speerits soom.


11. GAELIC PSALM-SANG

Corbie soars keenin frae a dreichsome airt
The dirge dirls cauld as snaw
A beeriet blade, drave hard in bleedin hairt
Thon tune. A burnie jeeled in the Deid Thraw.
Lang siller chime, wi steeple-peal's repon
Solo an chorus- geese, circlin a swan
An farrer back, derk sweep o Celtic cowl
The hunger in the wolf's unhaly howl
As falcon, brukk frae storm cloud, stoops an gyres
Sic psalms are winswept muirs...nae civic spires.


12. NOVEMBER

The tinklin Dee strums ben the wids
A busker, settin taes a-tappin
Linked airms o beech abeen him streech
Their copper leaves, like cheenge doondrappin.

The turnin fern, the rodden reid
Are lowes that smuchter, bleeze an growe
As Autumn cracks its crimson spunk
Kinnlin the hearth o knowe an howe.

Ferfochen flee, an wabbit bee
Desert the jetty skirps o brummil
Wins keen & sab. In wyver's wab
Cauld dyewdraps, tinkle, trimmle, tummil.

Fite thistledoon wauchts ben the breeze
Like tapsalteerie tooshts o snaw
Blaik parks are teem. Frost nips the breem
Sma birds, like rikk, flee hyne awa.


13. WINTER

The jaws o Winter gant
Fite fangs o ice bite deep in sides o Mar.
A wechty win, aslant
Soughin wi shouers o snaw
Clooers chitterin trees
Ptarmigan, bawd an stoat
Cooer unner larick's eaves
Blin drift wauchts oweraa.
A vice-like grip
Hauds burnies bi the throat
Derk clouds o storm
Are coffin-ships afloat
The rikkin blin-smore
Cairds the warld a coat.


14. LEDDYLANNERS

Spottit semmit
Gollach's wings
Reistin far the harebell hings

Leddylanners, ruby-reid
Yer a drap o fleein bluid

Pitter patter
Doon ye faa
Dowpin, deintie, on the waa.


15. RETURN OF AN UNWELCOME GUEST.

Jist fin we thocht he'd gaen,
WHOOSH
Back he cam
Like seet blawn
Doon the lum!


16. ANE HYMN FUR HYMEN: For Charles & Vera King,1996, Ruby Wedding.

Hymen's a blank buik at the openin line
Merriege, the pages...fashious fyles, or fine.
This pair we ken, hae fulled a rowth o chapters
Raisin a sturdy loon an bonnie dochters
It's unca croodit roon their ingleside
Fin Music, Poetry, Art, cry in tae bide.

Scots luv is gowf an bools, as weel as passion
Skirly an stovies niver faa frae fashion
A merriege wioot spice wad gar ye grue
The antrin argy-bargy satts the stew.

Guid crack, guid fare, guid friens, guid company
Twa notes lang-tuned fur perfect harmony
Delius an opera...herrin an oatmeal
Charlie an Vera, gyang thegither weel.


17. HEILAN BREEZE

A dyewdrap
Trimmlin in a wab.

The lirk
In a lochan's keekin-glaisse.


18.SPRING

Spring.
Lammie
on
trimmlin
shanks


19.GHAISTIE

Ah wadna be a ghaistie
It's hard tae keep yer pride
Fin fowk can see richt throw ye
An oot the ither side.


20.THOCHTS

On the drum-skin o the mind
Thochts knap
Like chappin neives


30. STORM

Lichtenin's a stag
In the antlered rage o the rut
Teirin the lift asunner.
His roar's the Thunner.


31. FUR A BARD:
A TRIBUTE TO SORLEY MACLEAN, WHO DIED IN NOVEMBER 1996

The waves o the warld, dunt at the herbor waa
A skirlin skurrie brakks frae the gurly faem
'I cairry bitter news frae the Western Isles
The tides rin wersh, at the daith o the Great MacLean.'

A shag gaed slidderin doon the stormy strand
Grave cloots, its wings, as blaik as the gapin mool.
An cauld, its skreich rang oot ower the ocean's mane
The Lan o the Gael this nicht, is steeped in dule.'

`A new birk grows, ' cry the geese, 'in Hallaig's wid.
Its eildritch leaves shine gowd in the dour Deid Thraa
Its sap is the tear o the starns, an the Mapamound
The lear o the auncient Bens, an the robin, sma.'

Dowie, the dun deer liftit its held tae list
The spurgie held its wheesht in the willow tree
'Oh Raasay's beatin hairt's in a timmer kist
He his jyned the shades, in the Glen o Eternity.'

`He wis the torc, on Scotia's grizzled Craig
The thrum o its clarsach, thrillin abeen the corn
In the mids o war, he'd pause tae murn a foe
Tho lesser men, gied sic puir stock the scorn.'

'MacLean wis a dauncin flame in a drift o snaa
A quaff o hinney ale in a droothy throat
A seannachie, o infinite pouer an grace
He wis the win, in the sail o Gaeldom's boat.'

The waves o the warld, sab at the herbor waa
The pulse o the Norlan, freezes in the vein
The keenin wins, rise in the coronach
The star o the West has set. Sleep weel, MacLean.'


32.SOS

SOS SOS
I am a phone box, in distress.
Jeannie Murphy's quine wis greetin
Said she catched her boyfriend cheatin

Big Joe Christie's giro's tint
Phoned the Broo tae say he's skint
Auld Ma Sangster's neebor telt her
Vandals smashed the new bus shelter
Jocky Todd is stootin foo
Baxter's laddy's sniffin glue.

SOS SOS
I am a phone box in distress
If the news I gie is bad
Ten tae wan the fowk get mad
An they catch me bi the lug
Gie ma wires an heid a rug

Takk me, Lord, frae Cooncil scheme
Tae be a phone box on the meen!


33.TELEPHONE CALL

Pream pream...pream pream pream pream..
The telephone birrs like a kettle
Blawin aff steam.

'Fit are ye wintin?
I dinna believe it.
Fit are ye gaun tae dee?
Are ye sure? Are ye certain?
Ye're sayin the faither's ME?
'I telt ye tae stert wi.. Nae strings, nae ties
I ay tuik precautions It disna HAE tae be.'

Pream pream... pream pream pream pream
The telephone birrs like a kettle
Lettin aff steam.

Somethin's arrived.
Somethin new as the dyew
Somethin fresh, an bonnie
As birdsang in early mornin

Somethin's arrived
Like an egg, in a thicket, hidin...
Bit it winna be bidin.


34.IN THE GLEN FAR I WIS YOUNG

Catched in the heather's twinin airms,
The nameless burnie, secret, lies
As my fond luver, efter-stang
Ferfochan, slept neth Simmer skies.

The jynin fever's like the win
That shakks the fertile Tullich corn
As in the lift ower Lochnagar
The gaitherin thunner breeds a storm

The lichtenin sets the lift ableeze
The fern faas drookit tae its knees
Aa leevin craiturs in the glen
The stang o eirdly passion, ken

A pleisur, sic a storm tae brew...
Efter the lichtenin, cloud, sae blue
The nameless burnie threips an thrums
Reefed bi the heath, like ony skin.
I laid my haun upon his breist
His hairt gaed brakk-neck like a linn
An as yon blin-eed, bonnie burn
Curves, glimmrin, like the aidder race,
His fite hause-bane, his lithesome hoch,
Booed roon, the bracken tae embrace.

The lang linn, breengin frae the loch
Mells wi the puil, its thrust abated
Sae did my luve, on the muir lie
Still as a corp, wi jynin, sated.

As the gray gloamin gaithered roon
The mavis poored its sweetest tune
Unheard, bi the soun-sleepin loon.

The nameless burnie on the muir's
The luv-sap o the lowerin Ben
Weety an warm, it slips inbye
The foggy crevice o the Glen

Oh, Allt -an-t-Sneachda hashes, braw,
The Alit Darrarie clashes, churnin...
It's tae the nameless burnie, though,
My thochts, like salmon, keep returnin
As the dun hind that caimbs the braes
Follaes ae stag, as ithers spurnin.


35. INDUSTRIAL RELATIONS

Heh, Teenie Anne... I wint yon herrin guttit
Yer name's FIONA is't? My by-name's better.
It makks ye luik mair glekit-like, an gypit
As common as a cooncil-roadie's gritter.

Industrial relations? Mercy, Teenie
I've plenty bluid relations back at hame
I crack the wheep, ye lowp, that's as that maitters
Jist ma wee fun tae malagrooze yer name.

It's nae polite? Fegs, quine, yer jist a gutter
Yer feelins coont fur nocht fin I'm aroon.
Jist mind, that I'm yer Ford, or Mussolini
And him that pyes the piper, caas the tune.

I cry a spaad a spaad. Hae ye a problem?
YE DINNA MEAN TAE TELL ME THAT IT'S ME
Bit Teenie Anne, there's naethin in yer contrack
That says I hae tae show ceevility.

Ony shite tae hit the fan...it's YE'LL be clartit
A boss maun aye be blameless. Squeaky-clean
An YE'LL clean up the sotter I hae stertit
I didna hire...bit I can fire ye, deem.

A gutter, Teenie Ann is ten a penny
I'd fill yer sheen the meenit ye wauked oot.
Sae ye maun thole ma tongue, an ma ill-natur
Fur jobs are scarce as feathers on a troot.

Get yer finger oot ye eeseless vratch.. I'M WYTIN
An patience niver wis ma strongest suit
Fit's this? HARRASSMENT? Ay, let's see ye pruve it
As weel yon haddie pit doon reets an sproot.


36.GRACE

Lord, luik doon upon this table, let the denner nae be teuch
Gin it's cauld or brunt or fooshty
Let us ett wi a calm sooch.

Save us, Lord, frae Salmonella, oor cholesterol levels trim
Keep wir arteries frae cloggin

An wir waistlines, beanpole thin.
May this food, oh Heavenly Faither, be a gastronomic boon
Wi a muckle dram fur efter
Jist tae wash the hale thing doon.


37.THE WADDIN: A POEM-SONG DOCUMENTARY ON SCOTTISH MATRIMONIAL CUSTOMS

The Meenister...Tune: For the Beauty of the Earth.

A flock o wayward yowes, my congregation
I name them, wad, & beery, my vocation
They lichtlifee, they show nae veneration.
Junk food, junk gear junk God. Junk generation,
Ma kirk's a prop they hire, fur the occasion,
Last time the chancel hoosed this bride & groom
They war cairriet in a christenin goun.


The Organist...Tune: For His Mercies Ay Endure

I play roon the herbor bars
Heavy metal, base guitars
Spit & sawdust, fechts, tattooes,
Blootert skippers on the booze.
Perfect Luv, Amazin Grace
A waddin makks a cheenge o pace
I can sleep atween the hymns
Dream o drams & whisky Pimms.


The Kirk Moose...Tune: There is a Happy Land.

Communion's wine, & crumbs o breid
A kistin's dreich an dowie
A waddin's fine, Scotch broth, divine,
An whyles, hett buttered rowie.


The Faither...Tune: Men o Harlich.

Fin her ma an me war merriet,
16 teasets we war gien
19 bedspreids,13 toasters,
an a photie o the queen
Aa oor sheets, if shewed thegither,
They cud girdle Gretna Green.

Ma Aunt Jessie, sent a chunty that cud haud the Torry tide
Langsyne it his bin recycled, postit tae anither bride.
This is fit a waddin's fur, gifts tae full a high street store
Gifts tae full a high street store.


The Mither...Tune: Phil the Fluter's Ball

Oh, the claik ower the dry sherries,
Oh the scandal, oh the news
Spennin siller is ma forte,
Taxis, flooers, braw hairdoes,

I will shine like Mata Hari riggit oot in furs an frills
Hard won siller flees like pertricks shot doon bi this waddin's bills!


The Sister...Tune: Ding Dong Merrily on High.

Ding dong merrily on high, she's movin oot the morn
Left a bedroom like a sty, her room's mine noo, ma's sworn
Nae mair tae-nails ower the fleer, nae mair beer tins on the cheer
Fit the bridegroom disna ken, she's haen umpteen ither men.

In the bath I wish she'd droon, she's soor as a prune
My assessment o the bride, a pain in the backside!
Waddin claik ad nauseam, in her cake pit laudenum
Ye can see I wish her weel, weel awa the feel.


The Groom...Tune: She was Poor, but she was Honest.

I'll eclipse fierce William Wallace, splendid in ma kilt an plaid
I'll be mettlesome an fleein, fur this do, her faither's paid.
Ilkie wummin's plumbed fur pleisur, merriege vows pit sex on tap
Foo ging oot, tae drink frat puddles, riskin Aids, VD an Clap?

My stag nicht, wis a bumbazement, at ma blackenin, pruved a man,
I fell doon an hit the pavement, sae blin-fu, I cudna staun.


The Bride... Tune: Ricky doo dum day

Like a box o spunks in a kangaroo's pooch
Ma train it'll crackle up the aisle
I'm the Bella o the Ball,
I'm the ring -pull in the can
Nae mair sizzlin the midnicht ile
Noo I've nailed ma man, it's the safties bi the fire
An the diets can float doon the burn.

Cheerio tae fruit n' watter, noo it's haddies smored in batter
Anorexia foriver I will spurn,
Hail the hippens, hail the hoosewirk, hail the soaps on TV screen
Baby's due the morn's mornin, fairly spyled the hinneymeen
Noo I've nailed my man, it's the safties bi the fire
An the diets can float doon the burn!



The Guest...Tune: We're Nae Awa Tae Bide Awa.

The soup's ower thin, the gravy's thick
My photie's ooto focus
The best man's snoot, suffused wi wine
Is purple as a crocus
A modern merriege laists five years
Or if yer lucky, ten
Syne, cut the knot, & cast yer net
We'll aa be here again!

For we're nae awa tae bide
We'll aa be here tae grieve ye
We're nae awa, tae bide awa
We'll ay come back an deave ye!


38.THE TORRY TERROR

He bladdit his sisters' wee hooses.
He peltit the collie wi kelp
The dominie ettled tae dunt him
Bit anely a bully can skelp

He haived puss in the Dee, an he dunked it
It floated awa tae Portsoy
An naebody clyped fin he plunkit
Fin he skyved frae the skweel, twis a joy!

He cowpit wee Jean in the nettles
Chased Auld Mither Broon, wi a moose
Fin the aiblich wis lowse roon the herbor
Twis safer tae bide in the hoose!

They tell me, he's thrived, spite o aathin,
Grown bigsie an flitted awa...
He's got on, as the centre fur Celtic,
As iver, a richt heid-the-baa!



39. THE CHECK-00T QUINE'S LAMENT

Tatties, neeps, an ingin
Poother fur the wash,
Wullie's needin new sheen-
Grip, skyte, flash.

Sweeties, ale, some flooer
A tinnie wi a bash,
I'm wirkin like a robot-
Grip, skyte, flash.

Safties, glaisses, bacon,
Intment fur a rash,
Ma hoose is like a midden¬
Grip, skyte, flash.

Mealie jimmies, ganzie,
Cheque, or card, or cash,
Ma dowp is dottlit sittin¬
Grip, skyte, flash.

Aathin's in a hurry,
Fowk, in sic a hash
Customers, anonymous-
Grip, skyte, flash.

A trolly like Ben Nevis
Michty fit a fash!
I'm scunnert, & I'm foonert,
Grip, skyte, flash.

Noo ma shift is endin
Beans & orange squash,
Hame tae dae the hoosewirk¬
Up, oot, dash!


40.THE SHIELIN GUEST HOOSE
(To the tune of 'Oh my, she's wonderful, beautiful, ' etc)

CHORUS:
Oh, me the midgies are hotchin
The rain is poorin doon like a linn
Dearie me, the venison's menacin
Pibroch's are skirlin like cats in a bin.

The howf caad 'The Shielin' is terribly Heilan
Wi stags' heids, Drambuie, & tartan duvets,
The paper is fooshty, the taps are as roosty
There's mould on the mantle, the broth, the bedclaes.

There's mochs on the ceilin, the peint it is peelin,
The cook has a beilin, the rins, an a hoast,
At the heicht o the Season, wi flechs he is heezin
He's three-quarters bleezin an he ay burns the toast.

The blankets are stervin, the skirly's unnervin
The anely ane servin, gaes missin fur oors,
The stovies are bowfin, the manager's gowfin
The last guest tae bide here is pushin up flooers.

The scones are like granite, I'd sweir that a gannet
Wad turn up its beak at the kirn on the plate,
The porter's tattooed, an the shrimps are sae stewed
That the troot in the burn winna takk them fur bait.

The howf caad 'The Sheilin', is Arctic an jeelin,
A hame fur a walrus, or a big polar bear
If yer an ice floe, or a fat Eskimo,
Ye cud ski ben the lobby, or skyte doon the stair.

CHORUS etc....


41.AFTER THE PARTY'S OVER
The pot pourrie is reamin in bree
It cud be Lambrusco or hamster's pee
The sofa's guffin o vin ordinaire
Sax pair o knickers war fand on the stair

The cat socht sanctuary up the lum
Fin they lichtit a sparkler aneth its bum
The pianie's drookit in Schnapps & cider
The dug's at the vet wi cork inside her
It shot up her mou fin the champagne bottle
Gaed 'Bang' like an aeroplane set full throttle

Somebody spiked the meenister's drink
His Sabbath sermon's cowked doon the sink
Alang wi his denner o mince an tatties
An last nicht's supper o hett chappatis

The aspidistra's hauf hung tee
Bein used as an ashtray didna agree
The goldfish grew fell gleg an frisky
Efter it snappit a treble whiskey
90 laps o its bowl at speed
It flew, syne chokit an drapt doon deid.

There's chuddy stukken tae ilkie seat
The blinds are torn an the duvet's weet
The bath wi empties is ram-stam-fu
There's 10 drunks left in the upstairs loo

The lampshade's tint frae the ootside lobby
It brukk, fin they used it tae batter the bobby.
The ambulance lichtit at hauf past three
Wi the fire brigade at the heicht o the spree.

The fists war fleein, an sae wis the host
An noo is the time tae coont the cost...
Saxteen glaisses in smithereeens
Twalve heids stoonin. Brukken beens
A bleedy neb an nine blaik een
A bra ower a photie o the queen

The cover wis fairly aff the parrot
Its beak wis plugged wi a monster carrot
In aa the beds the springs are bust
A Roman Emperor's nicht o lust
Wadna hae made as muckle sottar...
As pairty's gyang...twis fair a stoater!


42.THE PURIST'S POSEETION

Oor Doric leid wis biggt fur fowk
Tae claik on dubs or kye
Fur kitchie deems an orra loons
Tae news wi, ower their fly
Bit losh bi here. Oor Mither Tongue
Wis niver meant tae be
A plinth fur maitters politic
Or waur...philosophy
An come tae think o't...whyles
They hae a service in the kirk
That's preached frae stert tae feenish In the Doric....weel, a stirk
Cud compreheen the wirdies
Bit a MEENISTER sud ken
That INGLIS is the anely spikk
Fur EDUCATIT men.

The Inglis spikk, flees far, like rikk
On issues monumental
We purists like wir Doric keepit
Easy-peaky simple
Fur bairn-rhymes... or Music Haa
A Musie o the Troch...
Bit nae tae reenge the Muckle Furth.
We like it rank, an roch!


43.TECHNOLOGY

Heistin the cover's
Like takkin tent
O an ant's intimmers
A snorrel o microchips
That's nae fur beginners...

Auld farrant wyes are like jeely..
Kent, an set.
Forrit's the fey cuisine
0 the internet.


44. THE LOCAL

I'm the teem seat on ony commattee
That's stapt wi a hale squatter o incomers
A haggis-bag o gad-aboot heid-bummers
I'm local. Nae vocal.

I am the divot, beaurocrats wauk ower
Exploiters, washed in bi the ily tide
Aimin tae line their pooch, bit nae tae bide
They're vocal. Nae local.

I am the dot in their computer's print
The unemployed, the puirly-hoosed, the skint...
They implement the laws that gar me lowp,
Ben hoops, an I obey like ony gowk
I'm local. Nae vocal.

I am Anon. Here, North o Hadrian's Line
Oor maisters sneer, an caa us 'Philistine'
Sayin, 'It's for your good', Sooth politicians
Sell aff wir birthricht. Makk ill-liked deceesions..

Kept in the dark, we wauken up ae day
An hauf the toun's bin bulldozed inno clay!
I'm fooshionless, ye cry. I'm wintin sap....
Bit ye maun ponder on ma handicap....
I'm local. Nae vocal.


45. BUS HURL

At the foun o the pit, in the glaary derk
The mechanics wi grease are clartit
As they yark-tee screws, an ile dour jynts
Neth the bus, they're tarry-sarkit.

Their faces, blaik as the deils o hell
Are straikit wi swyte an sotter
At the chap o twal, the kintra bus
Maun staun on the kerb, an hotter.

It's cairriet coffins an bubbly-jocks
Auld earls, an the jist-new-mairriet
Pipers, loggers, skiers anna
An the antrin laird, it's ferriet.

It mauna be late..och it CANNA be late
Tae the lane fowks o the snawline
Frae the Braes o Mar tae the stoory toun
The reid bus is their lifeline.

In Simmer, wi virr, the bus will birr
As the gleg conductress thwacks
The ticket machine that's beltit ower
The blue serge stuck tae her back.

As weel's yer cheenge, she'll gie ye the crack
0 aabody's business tae Birse an back
An wyve tae the chiel that leans on his hyew
An tring the bell, fin the journey's throw.

Mangst passengers, claik rins back an fore
There's lauchter, wheeplin, flytin,
An whyles the rooze, fin the waur o booze
A drouth's dram jug gaes skytin.

The barley nods its braided heids
As the duntin wheels dird doon
The kittly neuks o the nerra roads
Wid-girt, frae tap tae foun.

Camper, towrist, ghillie an grieve
The clash o the near an far
The birks hear aa, as the saft wins blaw
Bi noontide's heat, or star.

A heeze o craws leave their tattie shaws
Fur a streak o fur an bluid
A bawd caad doon, on the cats'-ee-croun
0 the road bi car at speed.

A cushie dovers abeen the girse
A podge in a suit o feathers
Tae gant at the bus gyaun birlin by
Like the goats, that raxx their tethers.

A roosy tyke bowfs ben a dyke
Bi a roch-n-tummle roadie
An a wee quine pykin a pucklie flooers
Luiks up, frae a carl doddie.

In the den o a glen, a mist lies thick
An a tractor, slaw's a mower
Garrs the bus near crawl, an the driver bawl
'Div ye ain the road? Haud ower! '

Knell..0wer a knott on the ruttit road
That snaw-bree runnles traivelled
Auld Mither Farquharson draps her oo
Her worsit, clean bumshayvelt.

Ower the rattlin braes on birsslin days
In blin-drift, frost, or thunner
The reid bus fechts throw storm an hail
Ben muirs far ghaisties chunner

In the mids o a park, a single stot
Is staunin, hunched an stourin
The fleas are steerin aroon the strang
Sic sichts, ye see fin towrin!

A craftie coories aroon its lum
As a larick skelps the reef
0 the bus gyaun by.. Foo far'
Fowk cry, ' Frae Dess tae Coilacreich? '

The scraggit yowes frae the heathery knowes
Rin doon tae see it pass
The reid bus cairryin laird an loon
An lover, tae meet his lass.

Tween trees, lang-luggit rubbits breenge
Their flashin hurdies lowpin
Racin on, till on tussocks o girse
Their docks o snaw, doon-dowpin.

Neth ilkie birk, lang shaddas lirk
Moch-etten's a threidbare plaid
For the sun i' the lift
Wi the shades that shift
Plays catchie, alang the glade.

Warrior thrissles stinchly merch
Their stobs like stangs o bees
As skelpin on, wi Braemar near won
The bus takks wing an flees

Near journey's en. A toonser, girns
'I'm hippit, an bored tae tears.
Naethin tae see..'
The driver lauchs,
An slawin, cheenges gears.


46.OH GENTLY, GENTLY RINS THE DEE

Oh gently, gently rins the Dee
Aside the clachan o Abyne
The blin-eed meen, casts doon a sheen
O siller, far the watters twine
Far twinty thoosan meens teet back
Frae watter's cup, aneth the pine.

The knowes aroon, sink saftly doon
The nicht pits on a pit-mirk plaid
A lanely echo, hyne awa's
The whaup, that wheels ower muirlans braid
The reeshlin birk far currents lirk's
A skeely clarsach, richly played.

Oh gently, gently rins the Dee
Aside the clachan o Abyne
The firs are newsin, burns sing sangs
The darklin watters jink an jyne
Here, tribbles, like the gloamin lowes
Slippin ower Mortlich, crine an dwine.

Tho I maun bide in steeny toun
Wersh is the taste o bitter wine
Oh bonnie clachan, reply loued,
My happy thochts will as be thine.


47. LOCHNAGAR

A dweeble thing's Mankind.
A sma mishanter dings us doon
Like rain-tashed corn.
An fit brings joy the day,
Brings dule the morn.

My mentor's Lochnagar...
Thrawn, stinch an wry
Gin it can throw its muckle heid
Agin the winter sky
Makk Licht o shouer an storm...
Then sae can I!


48. WATTER-MUSIC

Hear the watter, cowpin clearly Coilacreich
-acreich
-acreich
Sliddrin roon in puils o amber
Glimmrin serpent, mangst the heath.

Neth the Darroch, blaik's a corbie
Dee, faulds wings o deepest jet
Necromancy's in yon cauldron
Mony midnichts, in it met.

Clishmaclavers o the shallows
Rin like littlins late fur skweel
Gairn, an Dee, an Muick thegither
Wi quicksilver in each heel.

Sklaikin, bletherin, claikin watter
Newses on bi Kinker toun
Till each gossip tips a boulder
Blethers aa, come scalin doun.


49. IN COILIE'S WID

In Coilie's wid, the birk tree stauns
The win comes fiddlin ben the braes
He plucks her leaves, he strums her boughs
She daunces, throw sweet Simmer days.

Her sap's a wine as fine's champagne
Her siller bark, wi bangles shines
Her leaves weir haloes bricht wi sun
Gowd pendles, mangst the darklin pines.

Aroon her foun wild rose blaws doon
Like snaw on Simmer mountainside
An ay the sough o win on bough
Yon great God Pan's unbridled tide
O reeshlin breeze mangst swyin trees
Green ocean, far heich cheepers bide.

In Coilie's wid the Birk tree stauns,
Reeted in Mar, it skiffs the clouds.
My warldy gear, I wad foresweir,
Tae jyne her, far she saftly showds.


50. MAIR SANGRIA POR FAVOR

Hame eenoo, cauld wins are keenin
Licht the lowe ca-tee the door
Spanish sunlicht's rich an reamin
Mair Sangria, por favor.

Rug the luggage frae the airport
Twa grey cases..cud be twins
Ye gaed aff wi Miss McGregors
'Mills an Boon' an knittin pins

Mozzies whinin, ripe fur dinin
Sookin haggis-creashie queats
Rare advert fur contraception
Spanish wife wi umpteen geats.

Bi the Med, its like Spring-cleanin
Neuks ye niver usually dee
Aired an biled an bared an iled
An hingin oot fur as tae see.

Inglis sprauchle, peely-wally
As fite-puddens in a raw
Latins, in their skyry dookers
Sun kissed hurdies luik fell braw.

Ice cream rins, a sweet Niagara
Melts afore it meets yer mou
Like pesetas in the shoppies
Is't a winner fowk get fou?

Scottish Aphrodite tannin
Heich's a kite on Spanish hooch
Dominie's at schule she's bannin
Here, a phrase buik's in her pooch...

Beppo wints tae takk yer dother
Past the pynt o nae return
An yer loonie's kyte, wi vino
Sweels like butter in the churn.

Dookin can be rale unchancy
Octopus sweems close inby
An her bosie's far frae cosie
Better bidin beached an dry.

Pechin Pedro's frae the Tiber
Saville's plottin Pepe's hame
Plooky Pierre's frae France's Midi
Spikk may differ...fowk's the same.

Furreign watter cairries skitters
Boeins cairry beilin Scots
Hame, like waas that's bin new-strippit
Colour o geranium pots.

Oh the warld is fu o treisurs
Lans o icebergs, lans o heat
Lans o silences an spaces
Lans far new an auncient meet

Wars micht eyn, gin fowk wad traivel
See the Eird fur fit it is
Ae wee baa, we as o's birl on
SAME PEA-POD...JIST DIFFERENT PIZ.


51. BIG ISSUE

'Tinkie tinkie tarry breeks'
Hear the tounsfowk cry
'Dinna cam tae oor door
Beggin on the sly'

Brukken teeth an ragnails
Hauns as thin's a cleuk
Like a tattiebogle
Creepit frae a neuk.

Hooded een an flechy sark
Jaiket, wallopt wide
Fa wad lat him coorie
Roon their clean fireside?

Styterin on spinnle shanks
Spurtles, weirin sheen
Sookin frae a bottle
Oblivion, his frien.

'Tinkie tinkie tarry breeks'
Seen in ilkie toun
Some ither body's dother
Some ither body's loon.


52. THE BLACK COLONEL

As I cam doon bi Inverey,
I saw the likeness o a man
An at his side, a comely lass
His Heilan dearie, Annie Bhan.

Wi flames, like roses at its throat
I saw the Castle o Braemar
The Lion's face wis gaunt an grim
An ay it spakk tae me o war.

Near haun, the kirkyaird o Glen Muick
The Gordon banes began tae shakk
At hearin hoofbeats drawin near
Wis yon the Colonel ridin back?

Aneth the Darroch's misty tail
I heard the doonfaa o a stane
I thocht a rider rode the cliffs
I keekit up, bit there wis nane.

Oh, far's the lad dinged Braichlie doon?
That reived the Gordons fatted kye?
Foremaist in fecht, far ben in luv,
The bonnie lad o Inverey?

He's sleepin licht, in mools o peat
His warriors, hard by.


53. THE POETRY 0 SORLEY MACLEAN

A tether o Norlan geese, his wirds.
Thocht upon thocht they brakk
Like a braid, brukken caa
Hauntin the lan ablow
Lang efter the flicht's awa.


54. Braemar Gaitherin 1995

A drookit birk's dispensin dreeps
(A Heilan linn dreich-drappin)
An ilkie wab's a washin line
Far plashin pearls are plappin

Luggit bunnets, willie-draiglit
Kilts an hose wi peat-bree taiglit
Dubs an clag an glaur an sottar
In the Games Park there's a hotter
0 events, an fowk, an steer
The warld an his wife micht hear

A mochy smirr obscures the fir
The lift's a cloot wrung oot
Hale watter's scalin frae the clouds
A loch, tae droon a troot.

Rinners duntin roon the clachan
Foonert, trauchelt, fair ferfochan
Boozie boorichies o cronies
(Real Mackay, an Yuppie phonies)
Brollies mushroom ower the heather
Deevil-takk yon Heilan weather!

Wioot a tae dippt in the Dee
(Braemar gies unca dookins)
Yer coddlit curls will as unfurl
An hing like catties' sookins.

Dauncers heist their swippert queats
Birl like peeries, sweyin pleats
Barin hurdies blae wi cauld
Bairns, an bodachs gaun twa-fauld
Kirn aboot the piper's skirl
Rebel-rant, or hairt-brakk's dirl

The bracken's lashed...the barley's tashed
The rodden's washed in rain
Ker-plink ker-plunk, the girse is dunked
In Autumn's blae refrain.

The tug-o-war team digs a daud
O grun, heels yark tae takk a haud
Syne RUG their muckle showders pu
The losers ben, like puffs o oo.

The sypin aik, a fountain stauns
Jibblin a doon-pish ower yer croon
The Cluny's reamin...streets are sweemin
Watter-warld sweels as aroon.

Rosit cabers, heavies, swytin
Haivin haimmers, syne the wytin
Fur the winnin throw, an skreich
That tells he's won the siller quaich.

Purple an gowd...a regal shroud
The heather an the barley
Their Autumn braws, wi roddens reid
Set aff Kyndrochit brawly.

The Gaitherin...maut o Heilan mauts
The warld is dowpit on its deas
Scotia's ambassador's Braemar,
The Rose o Glamis, preened tae its breist.


54. DAVIE GREEN THE GROCER-OH
(A fragment of a cornkister written by Alexander Middleton of East Mains Aboyne, the poet's grandfather, set to the tune of Rothsay-oh. He wrote many songs and poems in Scots, only two of which remain.)

A kintra chiel made up his myne
Tae stert a business in Abyne
Abune the door he fixed a sign
Twis Davie Green the Grocer-oh.

An if at nicht yer feelin dry
The Charleston it will not supply
Jist takk a dander roon the wye
0 Davie Green the grocer-oh.

A stud o splendid horse he's got
At cairtin jobs he's keen tae cote
Auld Middleton he cud see him shot
Davie Green the grocer-oh

A stickin plaister fur a sair
Or soothin intment he'll prepare
The druggist caas him something mair
Than Davie Green the grocer-oh.


55. CLEAN CONNACHED

Late fin the fire brunt doon
Ma feeties cam treetlin ben
Fur I wis a clean- spylt bairn
Finiver ma da cam hame.

He'd rowe me roon in his airms
Happit frae hairm or wrang
I'd wummle ma taes like a troot
As he steekt ma een wi a sang.

The cauld win rochled an roared
Bit it niver blew on me
Fur I wis the tap o the milk
The broth o the barley bree

I cocked on a pianie steel
Fur I wisna bred tae wark
An tuik nae tent o the thrift
In ma faither's darned sark.

I wyled his siller awa
Wi scarce, a thocht tae thank..
Quo he, 'It's gran tae see her thrive..
She'll beat them as fur swank.'

The tap o the milk turned soor...
The barley bree's, cauld kail...
An noo, it's wark or wint
An the cauld win's blawin a gale.

A boddomless pooch ye'd need
My gorblies moos tae stap
Fur a faimlies the slawest hairst...
An aywis-wintin crap.


56. JOGGER

Hippit hams, plottin broo
Snochrin, pyochrin like a soo
Masochism a la mode
Jogger, duntin doon the road.


57. IN MA FAITHER'S CLACHAN

In ma faither's clachan
The kirkyaird, wi ma kin
Is reamin ower

Ma sires sprang,
Frae thon peat-mirled stoor.
A chyne o bluid
Cleeks me tae yon derk yird
Tethers ma hairt
Rings ben ma ilkie wird.

In ma faither's clachan
I wis socht tae read.
Ma poems war stooks
Grown gowden bi the Dee's
Broon, birlin puils.

Unlike ma crofter-forebears
I cultivated lear
In city skweels
Won a degree.
Nae in brakkin grun, or burnin whin...
Or calvin roch-haired kye
In lanely byres,
Dredgin the tarn o Jung's psychology
Nae clachan bee,
Hummin aroon the hinney o ae hive
Rogue bummer, I hae powked
In far-flung caimbs o human thocht
Far fey an femmit thrive.

In ma faither's clachan,
The bungalows proliferate like weeds
Their ainers cam frae Manchester or Leeds
Their hame-touns bein bladdit, like the vulture
They flit, syne faa like locusts on wir culture.

In ma faither's clachan,
A Cockney body turned tae me an spakk
'I'm local here, and bid you welcome, stranger'
(An incomer's maist natural mistakk)
Sae foo, bein ceevilised, educatit,
Politically polished an correct
A graduate wi letters at ma back
Like a muir-fire did I bleeze up
An ache tae gie, ay ACHE tae gie
Yon Inglis gob a crack?


58. The Legacy

Faither an bairn on the reid-deer's road
Tramped the wiry heather
Raiked throw fen, in the glysterie glen
Kennin o peace, thegither

Watched the puils fur a splash o troot
Niver a wird wis socht
Tap o the glen, bi the erne's den
Far the gowden gloamin's vrocht

Learned the wyes o the trinklin burn
Bi pit-mirk watters, massin
Deep an dear wis the luv o the lan
Faither tae bairn wis passin

An thon is the finest legacy
That sire tae bairn can gie
Pride o race, an a sense o place
A North East pedigree


59. On Supposed Sighting of a Haggis

I ay thocht a haggis, a ferlie ye ett,
Fin ye t oasted The Bard wi a dram
Served up wi the tatties, rich, reamin, an hett
Or stodgy, an stiff as a clam.

It appears that its nae..that it's livin the day
That it's lurkin aboot in the gorse
It's a wee feathered beastie that bides in the knowes
(0 The Grampian Region, of coorse)
At the stert o the sheetin. (Merk weel fit I say)
It winna be pheasant, ye'll bag
Bit a haggis or twa, wi the feathers blawn aff
Frae the tap o some heathery crag.

They'll be tellin me neist, that a skirlie's bin seen
Fleein ooto a neeborin midden
Bit I'm nae a feel...I wis learned at the skweel
That a pudden is anely a pudden.


60. WEATHER

Jeeled tae the been frae queats tae croon
Weirin a ganzie aneth ma goun
Blaikit an barkit wi humfin coal
An hackin kinnlin... ma sufferin soul
Cries 'A polar bear micht think it nice
Tae dip its taes in the snaw an ice
Bit Lord, or faiver decrees it's time
Fur shielin the slush, frae roadies o rime
Gin Winter canna be warm as porter
FOR THE LUV 0 JEHOSEFA MAKK IT SHORTER.


61.THE DRAUGHT

A draught's a creepie-crawlie chink o cauld
Tit-tittin steekit windaes, snibbit doors
Whizzin roon neuks
Wi rochles, raps an roars.

Dammit, there's ay a something at the latch
Anither flee tae sattle in the in the intment
Like joys, sae aften jeeled bi disappyntment.


62. TV TOPPERS

Media-fowks' perfections, overawa
Conseeder...pint an poother makks them braw
It's anely surface gloss
They daurna fyle their decor wi a soss
Bit ay maun watch the laidder disna slip
Kerfufflin their image wi a trip.


63.GAIRDEN

Mowdies bide in ma gairden
An craws, wi flappin wings
Wummlin wirms, an slaters
An slivvery, slippery things.

Merles, bide in ma gairden
An fearie forkietailies
Wi yeities three, on brierin tree
An furry mochs, an snailies.

A kittlin bides in ma gairden
He hides akin the burrs
He stalks the spunky spurgie
Wi sherpened cleuks....and purrs.


64. GOWK

Wintin, wintin, wintin
The gowk's a girny, gapin mou
A millsteen in the nest
A parvenue
The pea that bursts the pod
The tither gorblies chitter, sterve, an grue
The gowk, is God.

A human gowk, puir stock, is bit a neep
A feathered gowk's a tyrant, wi a cheep.


65. GIRSE

Reeshlin, reeshlin reeshlin
The lang girse fuspers memories o simmer.


66. BULL IN THE SHOW RING

His legs tapped forrit
Pechin, weet o snoot
Curly powed, promiscuous as Pan
The bull. Blaik seed bag
0 the horned fruit.


67. OWERSETTINS FRAE AN INGLIS TRANSLATION BI JOHN MONTAGUE 0 THE ANONYMOUS 9TH CENTURY IRISH POEM, THE HAG 0 BEARE.

Ebb tide's claimin me
Ma life wauchts doonwird
Like the draaback o the sea
Wi nae bakk-turnins.

I am the Cailleach o Beare
Bonnie petticoats I eesed tae weir
Eenoo, peelywally wi puirtith,
I raik fur cloots tae hap me.

These airms, a rickle o beens
(Eeseless tae young callants) Aince straikit skeelily
The shanks o Princes.

Ochone, I can nae langer sail
Youth's sea.
Days o ma glamourie
Hae dwined.
Desire, is foonert.

Flood tide.
Syne the ebb, dwinnlin on the san
Fit the flood rides lanwird,
The ebb, wheeks frae her haun

Blythe, the isle in the mids o the sea
Washed bi the incomin flood..
Bit ma auld bluid
Slaws tae a wersh ebb.

I hae scarce a biggin noo
On this Yird.
Far aince wis ma life's flood,
Aa, aa, is ebb.

68. LEOPARD: OWERSETT FRAE THE YORUBA.

Douce hunter,
His tailie plays on the grun.
Bonnie Daith, he riggs in spottit claes
Fin he gings furth tae his prey.
Ill-trickit killer,
His luvin bosie
Teirs the antelope's hairt.


69. FRAE AN INGLIS TRANSLATION BI EZRA POUND & NOEL STOCK 0 BORIS DE RACHEWILTZ'S ITALIAN TRANSLATIONS 0 HIEROGLYPHIC TEXTS (ANONYMOUS EGYPTIAN 1567-1085BC)

We gyang back tae the tree-fulled gairden,
Ma airms wechtit wi flooers
I see ye creepin, cannie
Tae kiss me frae ahin.

Ma hair, heidy wi perfume.
Wi yer airms aroon me,
I feel gin I belang
Tae the Pharoah.

I am the foremaist o yer luvs
Like a gairden o girse an perfumed flooers
New skinklin wi dew.

Pleisunt is the sheugh ye hae delled
In the caller Norlan win
Tranquil wir roadies
Fin yer haun's happin mine in blythness
Yer vyce gies Life, like nectar

Tae see ye's
Mair nur breid an wine

I fin ma dearie fishin
His shanks in the shallas
We brakkfast thegither, suppin beer
I offer him the magic o ma thighs
He's catched in ma spell



70.FRAE AN INGLIS TRANSLATION BI JAAKO A. AHOKAS 0 A POEM BI KATRI VALA (19901-1944) FINLAND

WINTER IS HERE.

Winter is here aince mair
Gin I war young,
Mebbe I'd sing
O the blaik, blaik bowl o the Eird
Reemin wi cweelin snawflooers.

Mebbe, the dyew o the starnies
Wad skinkle alang
The nicht-blue glen o ma sang.

Bit the sangs o ma youth are jeeled.
Ma sang is puir, an ferfochen
Like a cailleach wi wizzent blue hauns
Gaitherin kinnlin
Tae warm her drauchty hame.
I circle the path o ma scanty breid
Cauld, as a jyler's yaird
Ma thochts,
Ma senses,
Roch wi wirk.

Winter is here
Tae sherpen Dule
Tae torture hungeret bairns
Wi the wheep o his wins.
Bit the berries, thick on the rodden
Burn like cracklin lowes!


71. FRAE AN INGLIS TRANSLATION BI TEMIRA PACHMUSS 0 A POEM BI ZINAIDA HIPPIUS (GIPPIUS) (1869-1945) (RUSSIAN SYMBOLIST POET)
L'IMPREVISIBILITE

Accordin tae the wird o the Aybydan Bein
The burnie o Time's niver-eyndin.
I anely sense an incomin win
The chime o a new meenit.

Dis't lead tae a doonfa?
Dis't cairry Glory, or a sword?
I dinna ken its face
I anely see the win o meetins.

Meenits wi happit faces flee,
Flee like birdies frae anither warld
Forrit, inno the circle o Life.

Foo can I reist them, in their flicht?
An sae, intae the taigles o their interwuvven wab
Whither I sikk tae or nae
Ma boatie slices ben
Blaik shaddas o uncertainty.


72. FRAE AN INGLIS TRANSLATION BI RIINA TAMM & SAM HAMILL,0 A POEM BI JAAN KAPLINSKI.

The East -Wast border's aywis flittin...
Fyles, Eastwird. Fyles, tae the Wast.
We dinna ken exack fur it lies noo:
In Gaugamela, in the Urals, mebbe inby wirsels
Sae that ae lug,
ae ee
ae nostril
ae haun
ae fit
ae lung
ae baa
ae ovary

Lies on ae side. Tither, lies on the ither.
Anely the hairt, anely the hairt is ay on the same side
Gin we luik Northwirds, it bides in the Wast.
Gin we luik Soothwirds, it bides in the East.
The moo, noo, dinna stert tae ken
Fur which (or baith)
Tae spikk.


73. FRAE AN INGLIS TRANSLATION BI RENE EULOGE,0 A POEM BI MRIRIDA N' AIT ATTIK, (MOROCCO, BERBER, CIRCA 1940. MRIRDA WIS A HOOR IN THE SOUK 0 AZILAI)

LIKE RIKK

Lalla Halima *. Takk tent o cast aff quines
Fa can ye believe, Mercifu God?
Me, I'll nae trust chiels...
Their promise is rikk an win.

Fin I wis herdin the nowt in the park
The Moquaddem's laddie made mony promises
Bit the cuddy fa's stoked his drooth
Sikks nae langer tae supp.

*Lalla Halima wis a Mohammedan hermit, fa proteckit unmerriet mithers fa invokit her.
Moquaddem; The heid o a pucklie museecians.


74. FRAE AN INGLIS TRANSLATION BI MARY BARNARD 0 A POEM BI THE GREEK BARD SAPPHO (6th Century BC)

We dowpit the urn doon onno the boatie
Wi this bit screivin...
'This is the stoor o wee Timas,
Fa, unmerriet, wis led
Inno Persephone's derk chaumer.'

An she, bein hyne frae hame,
Quines o an age wi hersel,
Tuik new-sherpened blades
Tae hakk, in murnin fur her
Curls o their saft hair.


75. FRAE AN INGLIS TRANSLATION BI KO WON,0 A POEM BI HWANG CHIN-I

The blue Ben's my desire
The green burnie's
Ma dearie's luv.

Tho the burnie leaves,
Foo can the blue Ben cheenge?

Ay mindin on the Ben, I winner...
Dis the burnie greet,
As it rins aff?


76. TWA OWERSETTINS IN SCOTS,0 POEMS BI CHANG SHIANG-HUA'S COLLECTION, 'AFFECTION IS EVERYWHERE'

TEACUP.

Dinna bann the teacup.
It gaes flat oot
Tae satisfee yer gutsy moo an tongue.

Nippit inno its present form
It lats ye haud an pett it.
Captures the guff o yer tea
An treetles oot a stringgle o crystalline bree
Tae sweel oot yer soored intimmers.


77. TEA KETTLE

It hauds the caller watter
O a burn o the Ben,
Haein wided throw
Braid, deep riveries
An wallies, steerin wi fowk.

Efter lang stravaigins
Its weird is nae tae chuse.
Fin watter sings in the kettle
The tale o its life's
Biled doon tae a threnody.


78. REID STAR LILY
EFTER A POEM BI THE LADY OTOMO NO SAKANOUE,669-781 IN THE JAPANESE ANTHOLOGY MANYOSHU.

Aneth the shadda o a buss
On this sun-druchtit Ian
A stammygaster, unremairked
The reid star lilies, staun.

Tae burn wi luv, an yet tae be
Nae even noticed.
AGONY.

The Lady Otomo no Sakanoue was a major Japanese poet. She was head priestess (saido miko) & clan matriarch.At 13, she was married to Prince Hozumi.


78.SIMMER GIRSE
EFTER AN ANONYMOUS POEM IN THE JAPANESE MANYOSHU ANTHOLOGY

Ma Iuv-thochts are like simmer girse
In the lang, lang, days o rain
Nae suner scythed, an raiked awa
Bit up they steer again
Strang an alive, wi aa the roch
Green energies o pain.


79.FRAE AN INGLIS TRANSLATION BI PETER LEE,0 TWA POEMS BI HWANG CHIN-I (1506-1554, KOREAN)

I cut in twa a lang November nicht,
Pit hauf aneth the bed-claes
Sweet-scentit's a Spring breeze
An fin ma jo cries by,
I'll akk it oot
Unfurl it, bit bi bit
Sae, I'll streetch oot the nicht.

Bens are aybydan.
Bit the heich knowe's burns,
Rin free rin free

Yestreens are like yon breengin burns,
They flee they flee....
An vauntie heroes
Fur ae day,
They dee they dee



80.OWERSETTINS 0 INGLIS TRANSLATIONS 0 JAPANESE HAIKU
THE PRIEST: EFTER A POEM BI MEITSETSU

The traivellin priest
Mells wi the mist...
The ching o his bell.

81.THE WYE: EFTER A POEM BI HEKIGODO (1873-1937)

This wye
Ootower the wizzent muir
Is aa God gies.


82.DYEUKS: EFTER HEKIGODO (1873-1937)

The winter storm
Blaws aa the dyeuks thegither
Teetle the steen waa.


83.THE MOOLS: EFTER A POEM BI SEISENSUI (1884

The muckle fitpreints
In the doon-duntit yird
0 the mools i the gloamin.


84.THE CLAIK: EFTER A POEM BI SEISENSUI (1884-

'Hey, ' cries the lanely chiel.
'Hey, ' cries the Ianely Ben.


85.THE SHELT: EFTER A POEM BI KUSATAO (1901-

As the shelt shauchies alang
He cairries ower his hochs
The winter sunlicht.


86. LINTIE: EFTER A POEM BI TAKEO (1908-

Frae the mids o the hairt,
Trauchelt wi soun an styew
A lintie rises, wheeplin.


87. CORBIE: EFTER A POEM BI FUKIO (1902-1930)

The mid-winter corbie
Draps doon, an stauns on
His ain shadda!


88. OWERSETTINS 0 INGLIS TRANSLATIONS 0 JAPANESE HAIKU.
BUTTERFLEE: EFTER A POEM BI MORITAKE, CIRCA 1510

Drappin petals
Seem tae gyang back tae the branch...
A butterflee.


89. MUIR-GIRSE: EFTER A POEM BI SHIKI

The girse o the muir's
Sweet-scentit
On the boddom o ma sheen.

90.PUDDOCKS: EFTER A POEM BI MEISETSU,1847-1926

Shawin their kytes,
The puddocks plump
Throw the sluice-yetts.


91. TIMMER: EFTER A POEM BI MEISETSU

A daud o timmer
Showdy powdy
Floatin doon
The Spring burnie


92. SEA: EFTER A POEM BI ARO 1879-1951

Cweelin on the beach
Waves cam breengin
Ooto the pit-mirk.


93. DAITH-EMBRACE: EFTER A POEM BI ARO

Clingin onno the girse
An dwinin wi't
The winter flee


94. MEEN-FLOOERS: EFTER A POEM BI MOKKOKU 1889-

Petals ski er an faa
Frae the branches
Ower the meen's physog.


95. PLAYIN: EFTER A POEM BI MOKKOKU 1889-

The first East win
A pine cone plays
In the watter.