The Black Sky Blowing (Scots Poems)

We're haein Sna the Day ‘We're haein sna the day, ' said the wumman Like the weather wis a menu written doon ‘I'll hae blin drift please, an a helpin o frost Wi a richt pea super for starters Dinna ging ower heavy on the hailstanes' ‘Then again, the sun micht come oot', she addit Nae verra convincin. ‘The ultra violet rays disagree wi ma constitution It's an acquired taste, sombreros in Scotlan Like naan breid wi yer mince, ken fit I mean? ' The Warld's Fite The warld's fite wi April snaa, there's nae a birdie steerin The squirrels coorie in their drays. Nae blackie's cheeps we're haein Like snaabaas waukin yowes an lambs, maun howk tae fin their maet There's gey smaa pickins here aboot, on sic a frostit plate The roadside's blaik wi orra slush spun aff frae birlin wheels An ye'll luik far, an farrer yet tae spy spring's new-plooed dreels It's weather fur Am Fear Liath Mòr on Ben Macdhui's braes Bit nae a day for man nor breet withoot their thermal claes Saps Saps, saps saps, steeped in milk till it plaps Doon intae yer upset belly it draps Breid as a poulticeas hett's ye can thole Syne bandaged an sypin ower a steamin bowl The pyson twill sook, frae cut finger or plook Or frae ony ill neuk. Cures frae granminnie's buik Orgy at Auld Hornie's Geordie Byron's giein it laldy Wi Nell Gwyn ahin the fusky bottles Deacon Brodie's chorin aa the quaichs. Grayfriar's Bobby's piddlin ower Lord Haw-Haw Mick Jagger's mou hauds a hale wine box Turn his snoot fur a tap Mae West keeps a carrot in her pooch In case naebody's pleased tae see her Christine Keeler's singin The Gweed ship Venus An five an twenty virgins, doon frae Inverness Staun in the firin reenge o Rabbie Burns Daft Yowes Anely a ma could lue it. She licks it fore an aft It's orra, shilpit, hudderie. Bit faith…aa yowes is daft Casterton Tree An aik in the kintra raxxes its airms As free as the air in its boughs Nae cribbit in, it takks its ease Its natur pleisuntly growes Its cousin in the toon is nipped Tae lat the traffic by Its reets near smore in concrete Farbiggins blot ootsky In the Pennines The bonnie burns breenge brawly doon The heathery braes o springtime broon The gean pits on its waddin goun O blossom in the Pennines The blackie stots alang the girse His feathers blaik as ony hearse His beak snaps open as a purse Wirm-chasin in the Pennines The clouds lie lichtly on the peaks The mists rise up like fairy reeks The mowdie in his velvet breeks Howks howpies in the Pennines The dykes like shards o dragon's teeth Haud yowes frae teemin aff the heath The howes are crooned wi a sna wreath Tho sun sheens in the Pennines The Entente Cordiale A birdie sat on a yowie's back. The birdie peckit, the yowie chaad Like twa gweed meebors, blythesome like, The birdie cheeped an the yowie baad Tho neither translated the ither's spikk, As ane hid feathers, the tither, oo They wir gweed company ben the day Twa craiturs takkin the peacefu view Overheard on a Bus: The words in italics were actually heard, the reponses, fictitious The cooncil's bocht a panda tae boost tourism Oh na! Ye dinna Say! The panda jist kens mandarin Oh weel, weel An there's nae eneuch bamboo at the Co-op tae feed it An fa's gaun tae clip its claws? Oh God. An I aye thocht thon panda breets wir cuddly An it'll hae ither needs ye ken Frustration's an awfu thing Oh ma goodness There's a polar bear in Embro zoo, something micht be arranged Mmph Ony port in a storm Oh ay, ay Ye see ae bear, ye see them aa Cheerio then I'm awa tae the Chinese fur a cairryoot The toon's ay pandamonium on a Setterday The Mearns Gweed fermin lan, the Mearns grun, wi rigs plooed straicht an true A skiffin o green on brierin buds an the lift is cornflooer blue There's reefs an steadins an hooses whyles that hairst the sun wi glaiss An tether its pouer, the antrin brae wid ferms furl faist their airms An traffic birrs up frae the sooth ower blaik, fite peintit lanes An jaikies biggin a nest near haun watch, frae the dytkeside stanes The scurries skreich ower the new coast toon, that staun far the sea creeps ben The peint nae dry on the harlin yet commuters, nae fishermen An this is the wey o the warld noo, ye maun lowp gin cheenge should chap An gin ye dinna the future will ploo ye unner like last year crap Cromar is a Hinneypot Cromar is a hinneypot, ancient an fertile Far fermers an fiddlers an magic combine In Spring, the birk branches are graceful as moosewabs As silky as maidenhair, derksome as wine The catkins bob saftly as paws o a leveret The young girse is brierin, braw daffies staun prood As airmies o trumpeters blawn in the wid-win At night in the meenlicht, they dover an showd The craas they are biggin, their nests they are thiggin Spring is the sizzen far lambs takk their ease The breem's burnished yalla, on far Lochnagar Sna fitens the pynts far the heich erne flees O Fussle an I'll cam tae ye ma lad Fussles cam in mony kinds, vrocht in Cornish serpentine Gowd an braiss an jade an jet, puckles blaw ower railway lines Bakelite, ivory, wid an thorn, ceramics, metals, agate tae Jasper, bog aik, bane an nickel, thermos-plastic, thon'll dae Carnelian, tin plate or cast iron, hoof an silver, pearlware Cheena an mahogany, Welsh slate, lacquer an stoneware Bosun, polis, scouts an guides, watchie, shepherd, ARP Dug's heid, dyeuk's heid, pitchpipe, toys, tooteroo fur referee Fussles vrocht fur jyle an polis, souvenir or giftie fine Ower the tap in WW1, sodjers in the firin line Fussles vrocht fur birdie wheeples, gowk, whaup, peesie, doo, canary Hoolet, muirhen, widcock, quail, nightingale an blythesome blackie Army, navy, fire brigade. Asylum fussles, transport tae The Acme Thunderer! The Rattler! Fussles muckle, fussles wee The Lion Rampant We Scots are a free reenge breed See the diaspora? Like thrissle seeds in a gale We're aawye, ony wee crack or neuk'll dae Fur us tae sattle, trailin oor reets Like navel towes, tied tae Mither Caledonia Stirling, Bannockburn, Falkirk, Otterburn, Flodden, Culloden The bluid o a warrior tribe rins ben oor veins Bratach rìoghail na h-Alba's The sail that steers oor boatie. Hector MacKay in Quebec weirs The Lion rampant on his t-shirt, Proodly on Hogmanay Elroy Zanzibar-Farquharson in Jamaicay Has stukken a lion magnet on his fridge ‘Och ay the noo' he says As he cracks open anither tinnie Felicity Menzies jogs aroon New York Wi a lion rampant frontin the peak o her cap She ains twa cds o the Glesga polis pipe band In Majorca, Rab C. Buchan Dichts the san frae his taes Wi a Lion rampant tool Thon lion gaes aawye Pencils, shortbreid tinnies, car stickers It's aa tae dae wi attitude Nemo me impune lacessit Mess wi me an I'll batter ye. Parin Tatties Dowpit at granmither's fit aside a pail I am cross-legged puddlin wi peelins I am five years wee, an the warmth O her hoch at ma shooder's a cosie lowe Her left haun hauds a tattie cuppin it ticht an firm The knife in her richt, strips aff the tattie's jaiket Plunk! It faas intae the watter like a puddock I am five years wee an I lue this auld craitur Wi ma hale hairt, wioot the need tae spikk Like the sun lues the rock it reists on Like the dyew lues the girse it haps at Skreich o Day The Guid Ship Argo Merchant It tuik this ship echt months tae sail Frae Japan tae Americay As wi anither boat it crashed It should hae sunk in Botany Bay Three times on fire, five times towed aff Tae be repaired…wis it accursed? The ship frae hell on the High Seas Unleashed tae dae its verra worst There wis a mutiny on board. In Borneo, it ran agrun Laid up in Curaco awhile. Aff Sicily, beached in the sun Wis towed tae New York. Sailed again Her bylers brakk doon sax times mair A floatin wrack, a sailin pox. A blot upon the ocean air Sune she wis banned frae mony ports Boston, the Panama Canal, an Philly The Indian helmsman cudnae read The course, in Greek. His steerin, uncae An aff Cape Cod the vessel sank Fylin the Pilgrim State wi ile The ship that cudnae help itsel Run ooto things fur it tae spyle Waukin ben the Burn I wyte fur the sun tae cam oot frae ahin the cloud Afore plunkin ma fit in the vice that's the icy watter Noo the burn is up tae ma hochs I check fur brukken glaiss The jaggy teeth o a tin I am a human tree Growin up ooto the waves Troot sweem roon ma reets like birdies The reeshlin soun o the burn Laps at ma lugs Aneth me, the steens are glimmrin Like polished gems Amber, siller, gowden, rooshty coppers Ma feet are fite's an octopus byled in a pot Plappin alang the sliddery skyty burn-foun The Johnner Celebration: Sheena Blackhall tune: Johnny's so long at the fair Oh my, fit an ingaitherin O auld farrant sayins, o singin an bletherin The pick o the crap frae the fowk o Johnshaven Colleckit wi smeddum an care Christine Kydd wirked thegither wi Ewan McVicar Frae Benholm, the Mearns celebratin each screiver The Beatties, Bill Wilkie an YAH memmers Aa sharin the heirskip that's there Ye'll hear o Death Row an the sang Aunty Mary (Her draaers held inside them a yalla canary) Ye'll hear the ongauns at a Pensioners' Pairty Wi interviews, cantie an rare Ye'll larn o the days o the fishin fur herrin The eese o the blade bi the Johnners fur sheilin The mussels, tae howk them aa oot fur the baitin Andy Shanks an the Craigs liked tae share There's bobbers an creepers an clove sticks an tippens Langsyne mithers wirked wi their bairns still in hippens The museum at Johnner, a website wi wylins Far the Past meets the Future's software The Girselowper(Scots owersett of The Cricket: William Cowper) Teenie tenant, blythesome aye, Cheepin on bi ma hairth, inbye, Fariver ye chuse tae bide Guidness aye sits at yer side, Pey me fur yer cosie bield Noo yer sweetest sang please yield; In return I'll gie tae ye Sic a lay as I can gie. Sae yer praise'll be express'd, Hermless, cantie, walcom guest! Whyle the ratten raiks aboot, An the moose wi unca snoot, Wi fit vermin mair infest Ilkie dish, an spyle the best; Lowpin sae afore the fire, Ye hae aa yer hairt's desire. Tho in voyce an makk they be Vrocht as breets, akin tae ye, Ye surpass, yer blyther far, Than blythest girselowpers that are; Theirs is bit a simmer's sang, Yours'll laist the winter lang, Unhinnert, chirpin, sweet an clear, Melody aa ben the year. Neither nicht nur dawn o day Pits a stopper tae yer play: Sing, syne -an raxx oot yer span Far ayont the date o man. Dowie man, fas years are spent In girnin, gurly, discontent, He disnae, live, auld tho he be, Hauf a span, compared wi ye. Scottish owersett of The Snailie by William Cowper Tae girse, or leaf, or fruit, or waa, The snailie sticks, nae feart tae faa As gin he grew there, hoose an aa Thegether. Inbye thon house secure he hides, Fin danger nears on gurly tides O storm, or ither harm besides O weather. Gie bit his horns the slichtest dicht, His self-colleckin pouer is ticht, He shrinks intae his hoose, wi richt Displeisur. Far ere he bides, he bides alane, Barrin himsel his gear is nane, Weel satisfeed tae be his ain Hale treisur. Sae, hermit-like, his life he leads, Nae pairtner tae his denner needs, An gin he meets ane, anely feeds The faister. Fa seeks him maun be waur than blin, (He in his hoose sae weel bun in,) If, finnin it, he fails to finn Its maister. Scots Owesett of On An Ill-Trickit Bull, that the Ainer Selt at the Author's Priggin - William Cowper Gae—yer nae fit tae bide an share The pleisurs o this place Wi sic as its auld tenants are, Craiturs o gentler race. The squirrel here his maet provides, Awaur o wintry storms, An widpeckers dunt on the sides O muckle aiks fur wirms. The yowe here smeeths the knotty thorn Wi cairdens o her fleece; An here I daunder eve an morn, Like her, a frien tae peace. Ach! —I could peety ye exiled Frae this weel hid retreat— I widnaeloss it tae be styled The blythest o the great. Bit ye can thole nae calm delicht; Yer pleisur is tae show Yer muckle pouer in ony fecht, Aye dingin doon—sae, go— I carena whether east or north, Sae I nae mair micht finn ye; The angeret muse sae sings ye furth, An claps the yett ahin ye. 77 Names o the Bawd (Hare) : Scots Owersett o a 13th Middle English poem frae Shropshire (Anon) tae gie pouer tae the hunter The cheil fa meets wi the bawd Will niver best him Unless he pit doon on the grun The weapon he hauds in his haun (be't huntin stick or bow) An bless him wi his elbuck An wi sincere devotion Spikk this ae prayer In praise o the bawd Sae there'll be better fare: ‘The bawd, the bawd-kin Auld Big Bihoochie, Auld Bouchart The bawd-ling, the player o pliskies Auld Turpin, the faist traiveller The wey dunter, the fite spottit ane The lurker in sheughs, the orra breet Auld Wimount, the cooard The creep-awa, the chitterer The ane it's ill-luck tae meet, the fite-livered The scutter, the cheil in the dyew The girse etter, Auld Goibert The ane fa disnae gae straicht hame, the traitor The friendless ane, the cattie in the wid Glowerowerum wi wide een, the cattie that hides in the breem The purblin ane, the cattie o the thorns The hyterer, the blear-eed een The waa-eed ane, the keeker tae the side An likewise the buss-jigger The stag o the stibble, lang-luggit The breet o the stibble, the kowper, The wud breet, thebreenger The cuttie breet, the lurker The faist as win, the sleekit The birzzer, the dowper in the buss The dyew-dunter, the dyew stotter The dowper on its form, the stotter in the girse The footery-fittit ane, the dowper on the grun The licht-fit, the dowper in the heath The stag o the cabbages, the etter o herbs The laigh creeper, the quaet dowper The smaa dowpit ane, the ane fa turns tae the knows The rise up faist The ane fa gars ye chitter The fite wymed ane The ane that sikks a bield amang the lammies The gype, the maet sooker The thriftie ane, the twitcher The ane fa gars fowk flee, the covenant brakker The snocherer, the close cuttit heid (His chief name is Vratch) The stag wi the leathery horns The breet that bides in the corn The breet that aa cheils scorn The breet that nane daur name' Fin ye hae spakk aa thon Syne is the bawd's virr pit doon Syne ye micht gae oot East, wast, north an sooth Fariver a cheil will A cheil fa has ony skill an noo, tata tae ye, Sir Bawd God lat ye gyang sae ill As will bring ye tae me deid Either in ingin broth, or jist in breid Amen Kinker Kinker was aince a steer o fowk Three hunner years ago Fin Bartle Fair wis gaithered near A breeder's cattle show On their thatched reefs the locals sat Owerwatchin drunken fechts An lined their pooches frae the trade Ower three Septemmer nichts The kirkyaird it wi shame tae ills O cursin, leein, swickin As cyards an drovers wyled the time Bi coortin, brawlin, chorin There gangrel bodies played at cairds Telt fortunes, fiddled, sang Set up their stallies, tethered shelts Wi joy Kinker wis thrang! Agricultural Competitions, Greenholme Gimmer hogg, tup hogg Best legged in bane an colour Agèd ram, shearlin ram Finest luikin breeder Dug the judge wid like tae ain Dug wi waggiest tail Muckle dug, wee dug Best dug in the Dale Best three sticks o rhubarb Best trifle in a glaiss Best jar o lemon curd Will yer cheese scones pass? Hamemade coaster, hamemade bag, Best carvin frae a veggie Crochet, knittin, needlecraft Best laid free range eggie A photie o a hedgeraw, A selfie or a flooer A photie o a cat or dug Sunsheen or passin shooer Bairns section- makk a pizza Or decorate a cake Screive a poem, or peint a stane Makk yer ain snaaflake Claes Pringle sweaters gar ye tingle Pringle sweaters are the bizz Pringle sweaters …far's yer jingle Pringle sweaters fairly fizz Paisley pattern comes frae Kashmir Scotland claims it as its ain Paisley pattern's fit the chic weir Paisley pattern's niver plain Tartan auncient dress or huntin Ye need virr tae don a kilt Sturdy hurdies, shanks o iron Marra o the fiery Celt Shetlan lace sae fine an silky Like a wyver's moosewab goun Ye can slidder ben a ring space Floats like faem far sailor's droon Lochnagar Reminisces I've seen it aa Daft wee lassies hyterin up in heels A laddie in October catched in blin drift Weirin a t-shirt Alane except fur a Mars Bar A ninety year auld wi cataracts Shooglin on the lip o ma draps Queen Victoria did her coortin here Shot ma stags like a towrist swattin midgies Byron, gammy-fittit Hired a sheltie tae humph him ower the heather Watch yersel. That's aa I'm sayin I can cheenge ma humour Faist as a puddock lowp Ae meenit yer dowpit doon Admirin the loch in ma lap Unpackin yer action packed health bars Neist, I roll oot ma mist, fur a hee-haw Ye canna even see tae dicht yer dowp I luik a michty erne Wi ma wings raxxed oot like a Roman legion's standard Snaa whyles coories in corries Whyles aa simmer Local fermers sclimm me in midsummer Wi fuskey bottles stappit in their pooches Fowk propose on ma shouders An ilkie year, I makk a ghaist or twa Ooto the unlucky, fa dinna takk me serious I'm nae some shilpit knowe like Arthur's seat Drovers, smugglers, poachers, clansmen Monyhae smored in ma snaas I'm the hinmaist thing they see Wi their deein een Lochnagar. I'm poetry in steen Paul Henderson Scott (1920-2019) Born in Embro, raised in Portobello Here, he read Walter Scott, Galt, Stevenson The Border Ballads, sharpenin his harns, Kenspeckle body, skeely an sherp witted A laddie, he fand Hugh MacDiarmid's Thistle Wattit his whistle fur aa that Scots could gie He jyned the Varsity Officer Trainin Corps An canvassed in Argyll fur SNP Billeted at Butlin's in Morecambe His buits wi cauld wir frozen tae the fleer An syne, a Desert Rat, he fand himself Emboiled in the stramash o war's mineer He drave alang the wrack that wis Berlin Germanic erne, it's wings dinged doon tae stoor The rubble Allied bombin left ahin Here, he administered a shoogly peace Afore his wirk sent him tae hyne aff airts Poland, Bolivia, Cuba, Canada India, Pakistan….a lad o pairts Tae Austria, Italy an steamin Burma Scott tuik a wife, sired twa bairns… mair stravaigin Tae Warsaw, La Paz, Montreal, Havana Milan, Bolivia, musical Vienna Cam hame divorced, wi a Miss Fiorentini Tae jyne the cultural steer o Scottish life Weel kent tae Embro Festival, the Saltire The Satyre o Sir Lyndsay's Three Estates The SAC, The Art warld, Scottish opera PEN and the Scottish Poetry Library The Herald caad him ‘radical…patrician' His mission aye tae further Scottish ploys Tae champion them, ane o his keenest joys A nation needs great men tae gie't a heeze Tae gar it staun, nae boo on servile knees Paul Scott wis a colossus o a cheil He held the Saltire heich, an served it weel Nummers Ae capercailzie risin in a roose Twa corbies craikin, sing the corbie blues Three hornygollachs, hotter in the haa Fower hoolets hootin abune the kirkyaird waa Five bawds a-breengin, ben the girssy howe Sax futterats fechtin, on the widded knowe Seven trooties treetlin splytrin doon the linn Echt mochs a dauncin, oot an in the whin Nine dyeuks stravaigin, plappin tae the puil Ten jobby hurcheons dae an echtsome reel Eleyven puggies lowpin, eftir a balloon Twal baldie bubblyjocks nae feathers on their croon Thirteen caperin kittlins kerfufflin their claes Fowerteen deevilicks dauncin doon Auld Clootie's braes Fifteen bletherin hoosewives, haein a bit yammer Saxteen perjink poodles, reddin up a chaumer Seventeen forkietailies, polishin Big Ben Echteen glegs aa sookin on shelties in the glen Nineteen flechs abseiling doon Rapunzel's hair Twinty midgies heezin roon a bogle's lair Còmhradh an alltain: The Wee Burn's Spikk Troots slidder, wallop an lowp, syne splyter doon As gluggerin on rowes the watter, Wi a great clattervengeance o soun Ma puil is a keekin glaiss fur the vauntie Bens Swete smells the thyme, saft wyves the graceful fern I am the liquid orator o the glens The lift wi its clouds wheechs brawly ower ma heid Slawly, I dauchle awhile, deep amber broon The peat neth it's plaid o heather, weeps its bluid It's in me that the deer in simmer slaiks its drooth It's in me that the sleekit tod weets his pechin thrapple It's in me that the brock, boos his snocherin mooth Far else wid the bairns like tae paiddle, bit in ma shallas Far else wid the whaup tred the seggs Ben ma banks heich iris-yallas? In winter I roar like a bull rampaging, ruggin I pass like a scythe ower the girse Like a muckle train chug-chuggin In Spring I am sypin, sappy an saft an swack In Simmer I'm crined tae a treetle In Autumn, I'm stappit wi leaves In Winter I'm cranreuch an black I hae nae desire tae reenge the warld like an ocean The glen is my alpha and omega It claims ma hale devotion