General Category > General Scottish
Scottish Poetry
Stirling Thompson:
Number 5 on the all-time list from BBC Radio Scotland...
by Alastair Reid (b. 1926)
Scotland
It was a day peculiar to this piece of the planet,
when larks rose on long thin strings of singing
and the air shifted with the shimmer of actual angels.
Greenness entered the body. The grasses
shivered with presences, and sunlight
stayed like a halo on hair and heather and hills.
Walking into town, I saw, in a radiant raincoat,
the woman from the fish-shop. ‘What a day it is!’
cried I, like a sunstruck madman.
And what did she have to say for it?
Her brow grew bleak, her ancestors raged in their graves
and she spoke with their ancient misery:
‘We’ll pay for it, we’ll pay for it, we’ll pay for it.’
Stirling Thompson:
Don Paterson reads 'Rain' from YouTube...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=ksAPGioaIMA
Barbara:
Thanks Stu for all your interesting posts. It would be a little dull here if not for you. ;)
Barb
Stirling Thompson:
The poem about Willie Winkie is known around the world but not everyone is aware that it was originally written by William Miller in Scotland - with a strong Scottish accent!
Willie Winkie
Wee Willie Winkie rins through the toun,
Up stairs and doon stairs in his nicht-goun,
Tirlin' at the window, cryin' at the lock,
'Are the weans in their bed, for it's noo ten o'clock?'
'Hey, Willie Winkie, are ye comin' ben?
The cat's singin' grey thrums to the sleepin' hen,
The dog's spelder'd on the floor, and disna gi'e a cheep,
But here's a waukrife laddie that winna fa' asleep!'
Onything but sleep, you rogue! glow'ring like the mune,
Rattlin' in an airn jug wi' an airn spune,
Rumblin', tumblin' round about, crawin' like a cock,
Skirlin' like a kenna-what, wauk'nin' sleepin' fock.
'Hey, Willie Winkie - the wean's in a creel!
Wambling aff a bodie's knee like a verra eel,
Ruggin' at the cat's lug, and ravelin' a' her thrums
Hey, Willie Winkie - see, there he comes!'
Wearit is the mither that has a stoorie wean,
A wee stumple stoussie, that canna rin his lane,
That has a battle aye wi' sleep before he'll close an ee
But a kiss frae aff his rosy lips gies strength anew to me.
Meaning of unusual words:
Tirlin'=rapping ben=through thrums=purring
spelderd=spread out glow'ring=shining waukrife laddie=insomniac boy
mune=moon airn=iron Skirlin'=shrieking with excitement
creel=deep basket Wambling=wriggling kenna-what=something or other
Ruggin'=tugging lug=ear ravelin'=confusing
thrums=purring stoorie=dusty stumple stoussie=short, sturdy child
Stirling Thompson:
Good Friday
Three o’clock. The bus lurches
round into the sun. ‘D’s this go –‘
he flops beside me – 'right along Bath Street?
- Oh tha's, tha's all right, see I've
got to get some Easter eggs for the kiddies.
I’ve had a wee drink, ye understand –
ye’ll maybe think it’s a – funny day
to be celebrating – well, no, but ye see
I wasny working, and I like to celebrate
when I’m no working – I don’t say it’s right
I'm no saying it's right, ye understand - ye understand?
But anyway tha’s the way I look at it –
I’m no boring you, eh? – ye see today,
take today, I don’t know what today’s in aid of,
whether Christ was – crucified or was he –
rose fae the dead like, see what I mean?
You’re an educatit man, you can tell me –
- Aye, well. There ye are. It’s been seen
time and again, the working man
has nae education, he jist canny – jist
hasny got it, know what I mean,
he’s jist bliddy ignorant – Christ aye,
bliddy ignorant. Well –' The bus brakes violently,
he lunges for the stair, swings down – off,
into the sun for his Easter eggs,
on very
nearly
steady
legs.
Edwin Morgan
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