Scots Poems From The Plumber's Widow

Leo I'm a Leo- hear me roar! I'm a Leo. Fit are ye? Gowd's ma metal, sun's ma star I'm queen o the galaxy Leo's flooer's the marigold Herbs are saffron, rosemary Lucky nummers, echt an nine Lucky gem? A deep ruby! Bonaparte & Mussolini Walter Scott, George Bernard Shaw Alfred Hitchcock, Carl Jung Me & Claudius, Leos aa! Fit's in a name? Fit's in a name? A tribe, a clan, a kennin A bluid line spakk in wirds A meenister merked ma broo As a babby, a cross o watter Ma faither's name cried alood in the kirk A secunt time in the kirk Anither name cheenge gotten wi a ring Gotten bi law, bit nae as deep as bluid Unwad bi law, I tuik ma first name back Vrocht in ma mither's wyme Wyled frae her man's seed sack Fa wid be a Woman? Fa wid be a woman? Ye maun be swack an thin Exercising nicht an day Tae keep yer body trim Spray tan tae luik healthy An nae be peely wally Drinkin veggie green shakks Scunnerin tae swallae Waxin yer pudenda Yeroxters, legs as weel Ooya! Thon is torture Will yer bitties heal? Dubs tae makk a face mask Ile fur dehydration Seaweed bath wi sea satt Colonic irrigation Eebroos pluckt an threidit Breast implants ye ken Liposuction, botox Perfume but an ben Pedicure an manicure Extensions, gel an peint Bleach yer hair peroxide Tae restore the youth ye've tint Tattooes weird an winnerfu Plaisters fur yer feet Troot lipped, buffed an back caimbed Tae makk ye luik complete Fa wid be a wumman? Wi a bra tae stop ye jigglin Implantit teeth sae bonnie Sae ye'll be smashin grinning! Three Scots Owersetts o Poems frae Serbia A Forgetfu Nummer by Vasko Popa Aince upon a time there wis a nummer Pure an roun like the sun Bit alane, unca alane It stertit tae reckon wi itsel It dividit, multipleed itsel It subtrackit addit itsel An bedd ayweys alane It stoppit reckonin wi itsel An steeked itsel up in its roun An sunny purity Ootside wir left the fiery Merks o its reckonin They stertit tae chase ane anither ben the derk Tae divide fin they should hae multipleed thirsels Tae subtrack fin they should hae addit thirsels Thon's fit happens in the derk An there wis naebody tae tell it Tae stop the merks An tae rub them oot. Hyne Inbye Us (2): by Vasko Popa Luik here's thon unsocht Alien body luik it's here A shoogle on the ocean o tea in the cup Roost takkin haud On the edges o oor lauchter A snake furled in the mids o the keekin glaiss Will I be able tae hap ye Frae yer face in mine Luik it's the third shadda On oor imagined wauk Stammygasterin abyss Atween oor wirds Hoofs duntin Ablow the vaults o oor palates Will I be able On this reistless-park Tae raise ye a tent o ma haun In The Clachan O Ma Forebears by Vasko Popa Somebody bosies me Somebody luiks at me wi the een o a wolf Somebody takks aff his hat Sae I can see him better Abody speirs Dae ye ken foo I'm sib tae yersel Unkent auld chiels an weemen Takk ower the names O young chiels an weemen frae ma myndin I speir o ane o them Tell me fur God's sake Is George the Wolf still leevin Thon's me he repons Wi a vyce frae the neist warld I touch his chikk wi ma haun An prig him wi ma een Tae tell me gin I'm leevin as weel Three Scots Owersetts o Poems frae a Turkish Poet A Dowie State O Freedom by Nazim Hikmet Ye spyle the watchfuness o yer een, the glimmrin darg o yer hauns, an knead the dough eneuch fur dizzens o loaves o which ye'll taste nae a nippick; ye're free tae slave fur ithers- ye're free tae makk the rich richer. The meenit ye're born they plunk aroun you mills that grind lees lees tae last ye a lifetime. Ye keep thinkin in yer great freedom a finger on yer broo free tae hae a free conscience. Yer heid bood gin as if hauf-cuttit frae the nape, yer airms lang, hingin, yer daunder aboot in yer great freedom: ye're free wi the freedom o bein ooto wirk. Ye lue yer kintra as the nearest, maist preecious ferlie tae ye. Bit ae day, fur example, they may like it ower in America, an ye, tae, wi yer great freedom- ye hae the freedom tae becam an air-base. Ye micht say that ane maun live nae as a tool, a nummer or a link bit as a human body- syne at aince they hauncuff yer wrists. Ye're free tae be arrestit, jyned an even hingit. There's neither an iron, widden nur a tulle curtain in yer life; there's nae need tae chuse freedom: ye're free. Bit this kinno freedom is a waesome sett oot unner the starnies. Lion In An Iron Cage by Nazim Hikmet Luik at the lion in the iron cage, luik deep intae his een: like twa nyaakit steel daggers they skinkle wi roose. Bit he niver losses his dignity altho his roose cams an gaes gaes an cams. Ye couldnae finn a neuk for a collar roun his thick, furry mane. Altho the cloors o a whip still burn on his yallo back his lang shanks streetch an eyn in the makk o twa copper cleuks. The hairs on his mane heist up ane bi ane aroun his prood heid. His hatred cams an gaes gaes an cams... The shadda o ma brither on the waa o the jyle meeves up an doon up an doon. Hymn Tae Life by Nazim Hikmet The hair faain on yer broo o a suddenty heistit. O a suddenty somethin steered on the grun. The trees are fusperin in the derk. Yer nyaakit airms will be cauld. Hyne aff far we canna see, the meen maun be heistin. It hisnae reached us yet, skytin ben the leaves tae licht up yer shouder. Bit I kent a win cams up wi the meen. The trees are fusperin. Yer nyaakit airms will be cauld. Frae abune, frae the branches tint in the derk, a ferlie drappit at yer feet. Ye meeved closer tae me. Unner ma haun yer nyaakit flesh is like the fuzzy skin o a fruit. Neither a sang o the hairt nur "common sense"- afore the trees, birdies, an gollachs, ma haun on ma wife's flesh is thinkin. The nicht ma haun canna read nur screive. Neither luein nur unluein... It's the tongue o a leopard at a lowp, a grape leaf, a wolf's cleuk. Tae meeve, breathe, ett, drink. Ma haun is like a seed brakkin lowse unnergrun. Neither a sang o the hairt nur "common sense, " neither luein nur unluein. Ma haun thinkin on ma wife's flesh is the haun o the first cheil. Like a reet that finns watter unnergrun, it sez tae me: "Tae ett, drink, cauld, hett, warssle, snuff, colour- nae tae live in order tae dee bit tae dee tae live..." An noo as reid female hair blaws ower ma face, as somethin steers on the grun, as the trees fusper in the derk, an as the meen heists hyne aff far we canna see, ma haun on ma wife's flesh afore the trees, birdies, an gollachs, I wint the richt o life, o the leopard at the lowp, o the seed brakkin ajee- I wint the richt o the first chiel. Yestreen Fin aa is said an daen, Wrack cams tae ane an aa, Oh, fey licht o yestreen. Throw paths bi briers taen The wersh wins sooch an blaw: Oh fey licht o yestreen. Ooto the past, alane I've watched the blossoms faa Oh, fey licht o yestreen. Bairnhood wis swete an green The whaup's cheenged tae a craa Oh, fey licht o yestreen. My kinsmen sleep neth stane Springtime's gaen wey tae snaa: Oh, fey licht o yestreen. Sae mony hooses teem! Like stoor, fowk wheeched awa: Fae, neebor, kinsman, frien, Oh, fey licht o yestreen. Wirdies Oxter, fooner, ficher, styter Teeterlogic, gammie, hyter Heelstergowdie, merriematanzie Stammygaster, blether, ganzie Skinnymalinkie, peely wally Scunner, fyky, blooter, swallae Hornygollach, puddock, cattie Girse, bumshayvelt, sotter, rattie Yalla, siller, gowden, blae Rowan, showdie-powdie, strae Chiel, quine, humfy, clishmaclaver Semmit, troosers, sark an spayver Ootlinn, waa, langamachie Bowster, screiver, seannachie Warlock, eildritch, mingin, cauld Spurgie, scurvie, bodach, auld Aiblich, parten, keech an howe Bubblyejock, dumfoonert, knowe Clarty, dubby, skreichin, birlin Heelstergowdie, girnin, furlin Lowpin, flechin, coorie doon Hoolet, houghmagandie, goun Wattergaw an hurlygush Skirps an tooshties, nippicks, smush Hurcheon, widdershins an cowp Coorse, mishanter, skelpit dowp Yeities, leverocks, pirn taes Dauchle, raxx, ill nature, waes Stammygaster, sauch an sheugh Slidder, sleekit, fyaach, eneuch! Three Limericks I aince kent a chielwi a beard Inside it a rooster wis reared Ilkie mornin it crawed, Till ae day it snawed, An the frozen stiff cock disappeared! There was a young quine frae Dundee, Fa swam in the Tay's chilly bree; Bit a dolphin rael fat, Lowpit ontae her back, Sae she drooned, a richt coorse wey tae dee. There was an auld mannie frae Banchory, Fa chokit fin ettin an anchovy; Noo he anely etts baps, Milky puddens or saps, An has gaen up aa hanker-pankery