Scots Poems From Goodbye To A Soul

The Edible Burnie Broon sugar curly, its currents Caramel, hinney its puils Peach bonnie it slidders ben seggs Like chocolate an coffee, bricht jewels It's walnut an ploom at its deepest It's cinnamon, traicle an wine It's liquorish, ginger, molasses Blaikcurrant aneth the meensheen Jenny Nettles (verse one is from a traditional song) I met ayont the cairnie Jenny Nettles, Jenny Nettles Singin tae a bairnie Robin Rattle's bastart I met ayont the burnie, Twa feetikins, twa feetikins I met ayont ayont the burnie Twa feetikins a-dauncin I met ayont the graveyaird A lassie howkin, lassie howkin Mools tae hap a bairnie Robin Rattle's bastart On Concorde On Concorde sook yer stammach in Sic a snorrel o weers an screens Wid ye pilot ane o thon? Can grumphies flee, min? In yer dreams! Oliver Cromwell (2) Oliver Cromwell, a Fen loon born Malaria, cholera, typhus, plague Crabbit fechter, a Puritan Hero tae villain an back again Oliver Cromwell, warts an aa Malaria, cholera, typhus, plague Cheils o Englan obeyed his caa Hero tae villain an back again Focht the Royalists teeth an nail Malaria, cholera, typhus, plague Roonheid, steerin rebellion's gale Hero tae villain an back again Cromwell ensured King Charles wad dee Malaria, cholera, typhus, plague Cromwell ‘s cry wis ‘Liberty' Hero tae villain an back again A wee mosquito bi Daith wis sent Malaria, cholera, typhus, plague Intae the grave mools Cromwell went Hero tae villain an back again His heid lies noo in Cambridge toon Malaria, cholera, typhus, plague An a new Prince Charles awytes the croon Hero tae villain an back again Hadrian's Death Poem; Goodbye to his Soul Wee sowel, ye chermin smaa gangrel Macorpse's guest an fier, Far are ye aff tae noo? Somewye tint o colour, nyakkit an wersh; Niver again tae share anither lauch." The Sonnets to Orpheus: IV - Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke Ye douce anes, wauk noo an then Intae the braith that blaws cauldly by, Upon yer chikks lat it trimmle an pairt; Ahin ye it'll trimmle thegether again. O ye blessed anes, ye fa are hale, Ye fa seem the stert o hairts, Bows fur the arras an arras' targets- tear-bricht, yer lips aybydan smile. Dinna be fearttae suffer; gie back that wechtiness tae the yird's ain wecht; wechty are the Bens, wechty the seas. Even the wee trees ye planted as bairns hae langsyne becam ower wechty; ye couldnae cairry them noo. Bit the wins...Bit the airts.... The Sonnets To Orpheus: XXV - Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke Bit ye noo, dear quine, fa I lued like a flooer fas nemme I didnae ken, ye fa sae early wir taen awa: I'll aince mair caa up yer makk an shaw it tae them, bonniefier o the unstoppable cry. Dauncer fas corp filled wi yer latchy weird, dauchlin, as tho yer young flesh hid bein vrocht in bronze; murnin an lippenin. Syne, frae the heich airts, uneirdly music drapped intae yer cheenged hairt. Already grippit bi shaddas, wi skaith nearhaun, yer bluid ran derkly; yet, tho fur a meenit in doot, it breenged oot intae the natural steerins o spring. Ower an ower interruptit bi doonfaa an derkness, eirdly, it glimmered. Till, efter an unca threwshin, it gaed intae the wae-strukk open yett The Sonnets To Orpheus: XIX - Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke Tho the warld keeps cheengin its makk as faist as a cloud, still fit's bin vrochtfaas hame tae the Primeval. Ower the cheenge an the passin, larger an freer, heists up yer aybydan sang, god wi the lyre. Niver his grief bin taen ower, niver his luve bin larned, an fit takks us awa us in daith isnae revealed. anely the sang throw the lan sanctifees an sains. Traffic Jam Dundee Hae ye crept ben Dundee like a racin snail Whilst coontin each brick in the hooses In a dreich mochie scunnerin haar frae the sea That could connach yer intimmer's juices? Oh tae teleport ooto the misery like Spock Ae flick o yer lugs an awa Nae sic luck, sae yer stuck, like a grumphie in muck An the traffic nae meevin, na, na I ken in Bangkok that the traffic jams there Takk onythin up tae a year Tae win ooto the snorrel an see the road clear Fowk hae deed an gien birth in thon steer Bit fit is the pynt o a car wi fower wheels Gin ye canna win ooto the bit? Come on Desperate Dan, an concoct a gran plan Tae gar Dundee's road sorras tae shift Weety Oot Windaes dreepin, sheughs are sweemin Dubby yird an clarty buits Puils in potholes, sypin shelts Trees are drookit tae the reets Larries splyterin, reeftaps rattlin Shooers blooter droonin flooers Rainclouds teemin. Birdies cooerin In their bield o leafy booers Wattergaws an thunnerplumps! God o Weet turn aff the pumps Mynd, it couldnae be much waur Yowes are oxter deep in glaur Their ganzies in the doonpoor reamin Watter aff their nebs is streamin Rain plunks on its zylophone A plashy, splootery monotone The Pyoke Whyles I lowse the pyoke o blyther times A loon, doonslidin in a Heilan burn A treisur skinklin in ma harns A licht that niver dees Wae, though, bides unbeeriet Cullerlie The ram wi the letterbox een Like a brod that winna cowp Rug -yarks at the girssy park Knapdarlochs hing frae his dowp Sharn an nettles an violets Orra, nippy an bonnie A steadin that's raxxin tae wrack Wi a reef like a cockernonie The lift is pearlin grey Like the breast o a reestin doo Plottin hett is the day A thunner plump's on the brew In a park, a hotterin tractor Dirds ower the rigs o a track A path like a rickle o banes Wi a spine o girse fur a back A shelt wi fower blaik socks Is skelpin awa the flees Ti a tail that niver dauchles Skelpin tae gie her ease An ower Cullerlie's park Rears up the Hill o Fare Far the burn o Corachree Aince witnessed the fechtin there An the young queen Mary sat Saw Huntly faa in the stoor An his loon, Lord John, fa lued her Dreed his weird thon fateful oor The Hill o Fare stauns stinch In Simmer its braes are sweet The ghaists o yestreen lie lippenin Tae the sangs at the widlan's feet Oliver Cromwell Oliver Cromwell, warts an aa Gart King Charles's heid tae faa The heid rowed up, the heid rowed doon Quo, ‘D'ye think yer wirthy o ma croon' Oliver Cromwell wisnae braw A midgie bite wheeched him awa