Author Topic: Scottish Poetry  (Read 101143 times)

Stirling Thompson

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Re: Scottish Poetry
« Reply #180 on: March 12, 2015, 06:38:55 AM »
Come ferry me o'er to Charlie By John Milne

                                                Come ferry me o'er, come ferry me o'er
                                                Come ferry me o'er to Charlie;
                                                I'll gie John Ross anither bawbee
                                                To ferry me o'er to Charlie.
 
                                                Though Cumberland is marching North,
                                                He'll find we winna parley;
                                                Wi' Lewie Gordon at our head,
                                                We a' will fecht for Charlie.
 
                                                To deal a blow at good Fa'kirk
                                                 I last did cross the ferry;
                                                Though 'twere to do ten times again,
                                                There's no a man would tarry.
 
                                                Aboyne is up! Glentanner's up!
                                                And left unsown their barley;
                                                Come here, John Ross! - anither bawbee -
                                                An' ferry me o'er to Charlie!   
Semper Fidelis! Semper Familia!
Stu

Stirling Thompson

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Re: Scottish Poetry
« Reply #181 on: March 17, 2015, 02:55:55 PM »
Robert Burns - Tam o' Shanter

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJ-xw3oBCeY
Semper Fidelis! Semper Familia!
Stu

Stirling Thompson

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Re: Scottish Poetry
« Reply #182 on: March 27, 2015, 11:09:41 AM »
Semper Fidelis! Semper Familia!
Stu

Stirling Thompson

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Re: Scottish Poetry
« Reply #183 on: July 05, 2015, 10:47:04 AM »
The Watergaw

in the original Scottish vernacular
   

by Hugh MacDiarmid (1892-1978)

   
The Watergaw
   

            Ae weet forenicht i’ the yow-trummle
            I saw yon antrin thing,
            A watergaw wi’ its chitterin’ licht
            Ayont the on-ding;
            An’ I thocht o’ the last wild look ye gied
            Afore ye deed!

            There was nae reek i’ the laverock’s hoose
            That nicht–an’ nane i’ mine;
            But I hae thocht o’ that foolish licht
            Ever sin’ syne;
            An’ I think that mebbe at last I ken
            What your look meant then.

 
translated from the Scotts Gaelic version by Hugh MacDiarmid

The Watergaw
   

            One wet, early evening in the sheep-shearing season
            I saw that occasional, rare thing–
            A broken shaft of a rainbow with its trembling light
            Beyond the downpour of the rain
            And I thought of the last, wild look you gave
            Before you died.

            The skylark’s nest was dark and desolate,
            My heart was too
            But I have thought of that foolish light
            Ever since then
            And I think that perhaps at last I know
            What your look meant then.
   
Semper Fidelis! Semper Familia!
Stu