Scots Poems From Muninn And Huginn

Aiberdeen 2023 It's Mey in Aiberdeen, the Castlegate. Ootside Archie Simpsons, fowk sit at tables On the street, boozin in the pleisunt, buttery sun Luvers fusper wirds as fowk hash by Into the Coort, or wyte at stops fur buses In the herbour at Nigg, sleek cruise ships Scale their cargo o furreign towrists On boord they hae drunk champagne, Daunced tae the captive band. Frae the North Sea A skweel o dolphins lowp tae bid them walcam Like the Vikings o auld, bit tamed, wi varicose veins Spennin their nest eggs, rinnin awa frae death In a journey o delichts tae kittle their dwinin senses Mebbe they'll veesit oor city centre Oor shoppin malls, oor crummlin graveyaird Opposite Macdonalds, jyne the toonsfowk On Mey Day, hashin by weirin their fake tan, The quines in their skirts wee as belts The loons like Maoris, wi their shaved, patterned skulls Mebbe they'll ett in oor restaurants Thai, Chinese, Mexican, Indian, Vietnamese Or stop an lippen tae pan pipe players, Nigerian evangelists, Rumanian accordion buskers Or drap a coin in the cup o a wumman beggar Scarf knottit unner her chin Oors is a toon o students frae aa the airts Twa rivers teem their waters inno the sea Watter has aye brocht cheenges tae oor shore The pavements are skittered wi gull keech An chuddy splats. The toon at nicht Is claimed bi the young, stottin atween the howfs In their braws, sarks flappin, gweed natured Singin aff key, blooteret on blue wickeds. Ilkie pedestrian cairries a warld inbye them: Beijing, Lagos, the Muckle Furth stravaigin oor Scots airt Jist as I hae seen Beijing through a mist Canyons o oorie skyscrapers, risin up foraye Masel, tint like a midgie dwarfed bi a muir. Doric Wird Rap Rowies, stovies, pizmeal brose Bidie-in, sitooteries, semmit, sark, brose Cullen skink, puddock, pirn-taed loon Turra coo, sowens, hotch potch, toun Stoor-sooker, futterat, bubblyjock Skinnymalinkie lang legs, bubblyjock Lowpin trootie, a hoolet fleein A chorer, a bosker, a futtly beilin A flee cemetery an a foggy bummer A horny-gollach an a daft wee scunner Bosker! Humdinger! Gie yersels a bosie Doric films showin that the future's rosy Doric 2023 The Doric's like an octopus eenoo It's branchin oot in umpteen different wyes On tea-tools, bloggers' sites, fridge magnets, sarks It's lowpin up in e-mails. Advertise- Ments cairry Doric's snappy spikk Films, radio, schule buiks an magazines Wee café's cairry laminated phrases Ye'll see't on First bus, newspapers, in reams O ballads, competitions. Fowk are prood Tae use the leid North Easters lue tae hear Doric's the mither hen. Greet her new brood! It's couthie, waeful, suitin ony mood! Nuckelavee Oh Orkney is a stormy isle The Vikings kent it weel An in thon icy watters There bides a coorse sea deil Nuckelavee's the ogre's name A shelt an rider jyned His heid is sivven times that o man His teeth, droned sailors grind His mou's as wide as ony whale Blaik rikk blaws frae his thrapple A flippers wallop frae his shanks A deevil, cruel an soople His veins, like yalla pyson vines Haid bluid as blaik as tar His ae reid ee is flamin reid His roar's heard frae afar He's hairless, skinless, has raw flesh Like a skinned corpse, ugsome, bare He hides awa in wintertime Rainwatter flegs him sair In simmer he'll be seen on lan Heid rowin, side bi side He blichts the oats wi a sea gust Brings mildew on the tide He casts a plague on man an breet Caas livestock ower heich rocks He connachs veg wi pysonous braith Makks drucht tae kill the craps An gin ye gaither dulse inshore Tae burn it, up frae Hell Wi Mortasheen, he'll kill yer horse Sae pouerfu is his spell Yer anely hope o jinkin daith Gin Nuckleavee ye meet Is tae low power rinnin watter Yer life is in yer feet PROVERBS AND SAYINGS OF CROMAR. Absence o body is better than presence o mind in an accident. A clean dud's aye coothie, as the wife said when she turned her sark A cloot abeen a cloot tae haud the win aboot Fa would sup wi the deil would need a lang speen Fed wi a teem speen Fen pride comes in at the door, love gaes oot at the lum Fen the tod preaches, takk tent o the lambs Forced prayers are nae devotion. Gin ye dinna steal yer neebor's kail dinna loup his dyke. God fits the back tae the burden. God tempers the win tae the shorn lamb. Hair an horn grows on shargers He disna aye ride fen he saidles He has mair jaw than judgment. He hasnae the gumption o a suckin turkey It's nae eese tae keep a dog an bark yersel It's the life o an auld hat tae be weel cocket Lat him queel in the skin he got hett in Lat sleepin dogs lie lest they rise an bite Learn young, learn fair, learn aul, learn sair. Lichtly come, lichtly gang. Like a bad shillin, aye comin back. Like a whale in a ban box Like the heilanman's gun, lacks naethin but lock stock an barrel Muckle schreechin for little oo (wool) . Mair by luck than gweed management Mak yer feet yer freens. Man proposes, but God disposes. Mend the aul an hain the new Money maks the mare tae go whether sha hae a tail or no. Mony a fair face that's scant o grace. Mony a ane speers the road he kens weel. Nae cadger cries stinkin fish Nane sae blin as he fa winna see New lairds hae new laws Prayer an provinder hinder nane Scandal's like dirt: the mair it's stepped on the wider it spreads Set a stoot hert tae a stey brae Sellin her hen on a rainy day Short accoonts makk lang freens Yer caain yer hogs tae an ill market Ye maun creep afore ye gang Ye may wash aff dirt, but never a dun hide Ye micht eat yer auld sheen if ye butter them weel Ye needna eat the coo an worry o the tail Ye'd speer the tail frae a docket dog Carrot Sunday Gin yer wintin tae faa wi a bairn An tae stert a wee family ye yearn Jist follae the rabbit An howk up a carrot An a bonnie wee babby ye'll earn Sae a carrot ye find in a park Mebbe helps ye tae see in the dark Bit it makks mair than cake An sae makk nae mistake It micht boost ye wi its vital spark The Veesion A braw an eildritch sign wis seen A wumman claithed in bolts o sun, The meen lay in ablow her feet A web o starnies roon her spun Her een wir dyewy like the dawn Her hair like wreaths o lilac blew An clouds o fawns stude bi her side An ower her heid, three ravens flew An she wis neither young nor auld Her face wis timeless, free o stain An o the sorras o the warld Fin ere she grat, fell doon like rain She wis a craitur o the wild The weet, the wids, the wattergaw An far she wauked, nae fitpreint left On girse or moss or pristine snaa Ae glisk an she wid vanish frae The sicht o mortals, syne unseen She meltit back intae the trees As if hersel had niver been Scots Owersett o The Blootert Boat bi Arthur Rimbaud As I wis gaun doon unfeelin rivers, I nae langer felt masel guided bi hauliers: Skirlin reidskins hid taen them as targets An nailed them nyaakit tae coloured stakes. I didnae takk tent o ony crews, The cairrier o Flemish wheat or Inglis cottons Fin wi ma hauliers this stooshie stoppit The rivers lat me gae fariver I wintit. Intae the gurly wheepin o the tides Mair heedless than bairnies' harns the ither winter I ran! An lowsed Peninsulas Hinna unnergaen a mair triumphant melee The storm blessed ma sea vigils Lichter than a cork I daunced on the waves That are caaed aybydan rollers o victims, Ten nichts, wioot missin the gyte ee o the lichthooses! Sweter than the flesh o hard aipples is tae bairns The green watter won intae ma hull o fir An washed me o spirks o blue wine An cowk, skitterin rudder an grapplin-hyeuk An frae then on I bathed in the Poem O the Sea, steepit wi starnies an milkieness Ettin the blue verses; far, like a peely-wally licht-hairtit Daud o flotsam, a thochtfu drooned body whyles sinks Far o a suddenty dyein the blueness, wudness An slaw rhythms aneth the straikin o daylicht, Stranger than booze, vaster than oor clarsachs The wersh reidness o luve hotters! I ken the lift burstin wi lichtnin, an the watterspoots An the spindrift an the currents; I ken the gloamin An daybrakk joyfu as a heeze o doos An whyles I hae seen fit man thocht he saw! I hae seen the laigh sun spottit wi ither-warldly horrors, Lichtin up, wi lang violet swatches, Unca like actors o verra auncient dramas, The waves rowin hyne aff their chitterin o shutters! I hae dreamed o the green nicht wi daizzled snaws A kiss slawly risin tae the een o the sea, The circulation o unkent saps, An the yalla an blue waukenin o singin phosphorous! I follaed durin pregnant months the swall, Like wud coos, in its fecht agin the reefs, Wioot dreamin that the glimmerin feet o the Marys Could haud back the snoot o the whizzlin Oceans! I strukk agin, ye ken, unbelievable Floridas Mellin wi flooers, panthers' een and human Skin! Wattergaws streetched like bridal reins Unner the horizon o the seas tae greenish herds! I hae seen muckle bogs hotter, fish-traps Far a hale whale turns fooshty in the rushes! Linns o watter in the midst o a calm, An the distances thunnerin tae the abyss! Glaciers, suns o siller, pearlin waves, lifts o reid aisse! Ugsome treelips at the eyn o broon gulfs Far muckle serpents etten bi bedbugs Faa doon frae gnarled trees wi blaik guff! I wid hae likit tae shaw bairns thon sunfish O the blue wave, the fish o gowd, the singin fish. —Faem o flooers showdit ma driftin An unspikkable wins winged me betimes. Whyles a martyr weariet o poles an zones, The sea, fas sab vrocht ma gentle roll, Brocht up tae me her derk flooers wi yalla sookers An I bedd, like a wumman on her knees... Like an island haivin on ma sides the argy-bargies An keech o birds skreichin wi yalla een An I sailed on, fin throwe ma dweeble towes Drooned cheils sank backwird tae sleep! Noo I, a boatie tint in the foliage o caves, Haived bi the storm intae the birdless air I, fas watter-drunk frame widnae hae bin rescued Bi the Monitors an the Hanseatic sailboats; Free, rikkin, tapped wi violet fog, I fa pierced the reiddenin lift like a waa, Cairryin tasty jam fur gweed poets Lichens o sunlicht an mucus o blue, Fa ran, spirkit wi wee electric meens, A wud plank, convoyed bi blaik seashelts, Fin Julys haimmer doon wi cloors o clubs The ultramarine lift wi burnin funnels; I, fa trimmlit, hearin at fifty leagues aff The maenin o the Behemoths in heat an the thick maelstroms, Aybydan spinner o the blue calm I miss Europe wi its auncient railins I hae seen hyne aff starnies archipelagos! an islands Fas deleerious lifts are open tae the sea-traiveller: —Is it in thon boddomless nichts that ye sleep an exile yersel, Million gowden birdies, o future virr? - Bit, in truith, I hae grat ower muckle! Dawns are hairtbrakkin. Ilkie meen is awfu an ilkie sun wersh. Stingin luve his swalled me wi wechtiness O lat ma keel burst! O lat me gae intae the sea! Gin I wint watter o Europe, it's the blaik Cauld puddle far in the swete-smellin gloamin A hunkered bairn fu o wae lowses A boatie as dweeble as a Mey butterflee. Nae langer can I, bathed in yer wearieness, o waves, Follae in the wake o the cotton boaties, Nor cross ower the pride o flags an flames, Nor sweem aneth the terrible een o the jyle ships. Coronation Day We hae a fower oor journey afore us Getting ready tae face the road, The radio bleats oot a commentary O the King an Queen Consort's procession Settin aff frae Buckingham Palace tae Westminster Abbey Ma loon's wave length's set fur fitbaa, Like mony ither Scots, he braves the haar The Royal journey sterts in a gowd state coach, Oors in a faimily car. The road is happit in fog, the cars in front Are ghaists, the weather's weety We hit a pothole, the rear wheel tholes a dunt Doon in Lunnon the great an the guid Watch the Archbishop place the croon o St Edward on the king's heid at noon We, betimes, birr on doon the motorwye, Pass a car upturned on its back Like a cowpit beetle, its occupants missin In A & E or the morgue, life gaun awry Naebody kens fit weird they're gaun tae dree Ae meenit, aathin's braw, the neist brings wae In Westminster Abbey, aa's pomp an ceremony The motorwye needs aa a driver's senses Larries pass like spectres, cairryin gear Coronation chucken, Empire biscuits Bananas frae the Commonwealth. A steer O win gars ae van swerve a swey We cairry on, a thunnerpelt dings doon The rain rams hard as bullets aff the road An aye the fog that blinns the wye aheid An warnins flash, bring worry overload In Lunnon in the gowd state coach the King An Queen are flanked bi loyal body guairds The warld luiks on up tae the the balcony The newsfowk race tae capture picturs, wirds An we hae reached oor journey's eyn as weel Nae trumpets, horns, or pipes, soond oor arrival Bit as wi aabody, these onchancy times It's aa aboot an endurance an survival Scots Owersett o When I was Fair and Young, bi Queen Elizabeth I Fin I wis fair an young, syne favour sheened on me; Bi mony wis I socht their mistress fur tae be. Bit I did scorn them aa, an reponed tae them there, Gae, gae, seek itherwye, an prig wi me nae mair. Foo mony greetin een I gart tae pine in wae; Foo mony sighin hairts I turned them aa astray Yet I the prooder grew, an reponed tae aa there, Gae, gae, seek itherwye, an prig wi me nae mair. Then spakk fair Venus' son, thon prood victorious lad, An quo ye dainty dame, since that ye me affhaud, I will sae pyke yer plumes, ye'll takk me, queen sae fair Gae, gae, seek itherwye, an prig wi me nae mair. Fin he had spakk thon wirds sic cheenge grew in ma breist, That neither nicht nur day I could takk ony rest. Syne, och I did repent, the repon I made sair Gae, gae, seek itherwye, an prig wi me nae mair.