Scots Poems From The Doll's House Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Winter
Oot in the wids, spitters o sleet faa doon
The yowdendrift gaithers in banks o snaa
Kent lanscapes droon

The onding growes, skiffins o fite blaas wide
Flichterin doon like baas o yowie's oo
On the heich Bens taps an sides

Spindrift rikks frae the park
The blin smore haimmers the dyke
Ghaistly the ice glents on the trees bark

Winter's cranreuch cauld grips the warld in its neive
Snaa tummles frae the lift like flooer frae a seive


Nessy
The watters o Loch Ness are cauld
They're oorie an they're derk
Hyne ooto sicht doon at its foun
A monster sweems the mirk

Men caa her Nessie. Fegs, she's fly
Her da's a watter dragon
Her ma's a Moray eel
An she drinks watter bi the flagon

Sae mony fowk are eftir her,
Photographers an press
Scientists, trophy hunters, towrists
Scannin aa Loch Ness

Bit nane will niver catch her
This monster rarity
For myths are ill tae corner
Sae they hae longevity


Halloween
Halloween. Deid speerits rise
Leave the grave an wauk the lan
Till the cock craas at day brakk
Syne they dwine like sinkin san

Guizin. Littlins dook fur aipples
Ghaists an bogles on the spree
Neepie lanterns, witches, warlocks
Hermless fun or Deevilry?

Cantrips, cats, and cauldrons, besoms
Eildritch skeletons, ship wrack
Peel an aipple, haive it ower
Yer shooder, dis't a letter makk?

My granfaither lichtit bonfires
On his ferm tae haud awa
A feary wizard frae his acres
Fa's familiar wis a craa

Halloween. Deid speerits rise
Leave the grave an wauk the lan
Till the cock craas at day brakk
Syne they dwine like sinkin san


The Stooshie
At the Mall, a stooshie's ongaun
It's like the Colosseum.
Guairds staun in a semi-cercle
Quines fecht like tigers
Hair-teirin, cleuks scrattin
Sweir-spittin feral mingers

Shoppers gie them a wide berth
Security can dae hee-haw
Sae bampots rule, OK?

Free education, free NHS
Benefit-fundit numpties
Naethin tae dae bit peint their nails
Get heich on hooch or fitiver
An cause a richt stramash

An this in oor ceevilized kintra
Pairt o the shoppin experience

Eftir aa, they hae their human richts
Tae behave like mingers
Nippy sweeties in the quality street
O a toun


Joe Aitken 10/4/1944-3/4/2024 Tune: Drumdelgie
Joe Aitken's life wis filled wi sang
O work an bothy days
His faither wis a ferm grieve
On Perthsire's fertile braes
An on thon ferm upon a kist
He larned the wirds an tunes
Braithed in upon the corn parks
By Doric quines an loons

Muirheid o Logie's berryfields
Near Kirriemuir, Joe ained
Wi Pat he raised a faimily
Bit aye he entertained
A Champion o Champions
There's nane could him back
The Haa o Fame it hauds his name
Ye'll see't on cup an plaque

The years rowed on, the eichties cam
Joe traivelled far an wide
Ower Scotland, England, Ireland
At Whitby by the tide
The sangs poored oot, fowk gaithered roon
By stage or tent or bar
Fur Joe could bring tunes bonnie oot
A cornkister star

In Rudolstadt in Germany,
Sivven thoosan fowk wir there
Tae hear Joe sing rare North East sangs
Upon the caller air
Fariver he performed, his cherm
Won encores wintin mair
An honest, hummle skeely cheil
Ay keen tae guide an share

Tae cairry a tradition
Is a wechty thing tae dae
Joe Aitken did it willinly
Wi aa that he could gae
His loss is felt baith near an far
Fowks' hairts he fair could steal
Oh he has earned his hinmaist rest
Joe Aitken, fare thee weel


Midnicht
Catkins, daffies, flouerin gean
Lochan watter, yalla meen
Lullin soun o dwaumin waves
Aa the balm a body craves

Snapshot o a Glen
Mowdies howkin up the park
Ilkie post's tapped wi a craa
Erne is cerclin the lift
Local lammies lowp an baa

Ower a fence, the towrists glower
Coos glower back, like roch tongued neebors
Towerists winner fit coos think
Coos chaw quaet, wi teeth an slavers

Neither cross the great divide
Niver jyne the ither side


Overheard on a Bus tour of Loch Lomond
Thon rain's taen the curl clean ooto ma hair
I niver bowl on a bingo nicht
See ae tree ye've seen them aa
Ma next holiday's Bulgaria
This road wis niver made fur muckle larries
They say its snaain in Aiberdeen
The sleet's hingin aff bi a threid
Ma son's in government in Australia.
He weirs his breeks tucked intae his buits
Tae stop siders rinnin up his legs
Jist me an the cat noo
I'm deef in ae lug, bit the ither ane's wirkin
Ae wirkin toilet fur 30 fowk…nae winner fowk takk the high road
I dinna watch the news. Its aa lees
Wid ye really wint tae bide here in the wilds?
Shockin. Jist smush in cheenge frae a tenner fur a baked tattie.
This if Scotland nae the Riviera
I pit ma watch on upside doon.
I wis washed, shouered an dressed ready fur brakkfast a 1.30am
Oh look. There's a coo!


The Urisk
Langsyne in the Heilans there lived a clan
On heich Ben Venue, tae mortals, faes
Hauf goat, hauf human, like bairns o Pan
Their ae delicht, tae increase man's waes

Ane o them bedd in the Goblin's cave
Nearhaun a well far fowk drew watter
Guairdit weel bi a bonnie lass
Katrine bi nemme, a shepherd's dother

A coorse young urisk tuik human form
As a handsome Heilander, bearin a bowl
Laced wi a potion tae garr her sleep
Giein him ower her hale control

The urisk cut ilkie sluice frae the well
The watter poored on the lan aneth
Drooned the shepherds, their kin, their yowes
Bringin them aa a tragic daith

The lassie waukened, an saw the wrack
Aa her faimily deid an gaen
Killt bi the breet frae the Goblin's cave
She lowped in the loch that tuik her nemme


Photo Shoot, Loch Auchray
Naethin tae dae bit staun in the dubs
Chawin the cweed an thinkin
Sivven heilan coos wi hat staun horns
Tails sweeshin, baith een blinkin

Until a camera comes in sicht
The chaunce fur a bonnie view
See them plyter up tae the yett
Watch the birdie.Moo

Midnicht
Catkins, daffies, flouerin gean
Lochan watter, yalla meen
Lullin soun o dwaumin waves
Aa the balm a body craves


Snapshot o a Glen
Mowdies howkin up the park
Ilkie post's tapped wi a craa
Erne is cerclin the lift
Local lammies lowp an baa

Ower a fence, the towrists glower
Coos glower back, like roch tongued neebors
Towerists winner fit coos think
Coos chaw quaet, wi teeth an slavers

Neither cross the great divide
Unnerstaun the ither side


Niver gae back
Niver gae back.
It's nae aboot fit wis there
It's aboot fit's there noo

It's nae aboot the teem spaces
It's fit fulls them noo

Forget yer memories
Some ither body bides there noo

Howk up the graves o yer kin
They'll ken far aathin's gaen

Climm intae yer kist.
Clap tee the lid
Aince yer unner the mools
Ye'll forget the past


Doric Owersetts o Chinese & Japanese poets

Tu Mu / Du Mu
Du Mu was a Chinese calligrapher, poet, and politician who lived during the late Tang dynasty. His courtesy name was Muzhi, and art name Fanchuan. He is best known for his lyrical and romantic quatrains.

Poems for Parting by Du Mu
So swack an sae gracefu
Nae muckle mair than thirteen
The pynt o a cardamom branch in spring
Jist aboot tae brier
Ten miles doon the Yangzhou road
An the spring wins wir blawin
A rowth o weemen since, bead hingins heistin,
Bit niver like thon again.
2
Ower muckle luve
Some wey becam
No luve at aa
Ower this fareweel bottle
We canna manage
Even a frienly smile
Anely the caunle
Seems tae be able
Tae shaw a bittie feelin
Aa nicht
It greets
Wee wax tears.

Country Journey by Du Mu
Hauf wey ben spring
The sun sets as I pass Nanyang
Aneth tender mulberry trees
I gae intae a quaet clachan
Greetin saughs
Steer saftly in the win
Aneth a doonpish o raindraps
The fish puil's fulled wi cercles
The coo herd loon
Weirs a rain-shawl, singin
Teets throw a bamboo fence
Tae see a quine's reid skirt
I peel awa ma weet
Traivellin shawl an jaiket
Jist as ma host brings oot
A bowl o chucken an millet.

Pien River blocked by Ice by Tu Mu
Fur a thoosan miles alang the river, fin the ice sterts tae steek,
Harness jades an girdle jaspers clink at the spikey edge
The drift o life's nae different frae the watter aneth the ice
Hashin Eastwird day an nicht fin naebody takks tent.
……………………………………………………………………………………

Also known as Tu Fu, Du Fu is considered Li Po to be one of China's greatest poets of the Tang dynasty. Du Fu was born to a minor scholar-official in Henan Province.


Overnight At The Riverside Tower: Du Fu
Evenin colours dauchle on paths on Bens.
Oot ayont this study reestin ower River Yett,
At the cliff's edge, dweeble clouds bide
Aa nicht. Amang waves, a lane, chitterin

Meen. As cranes stringle aff in flicht, seelent,
Wolves gurr ower their kill. I think on
Oor wars, sleepless here an, tae richt
A merciless Heiven an Eirde, pouerless.
……………………………………………………………………………..
Kakinomoto no Hitomaro
He was a Japanese waka poet and aristocrat of the late Asuka period
He likely died in Iwami Province around 709

On the Death of His Wife (II)
Fin we twa gaed alang
The weys o life thegither,
An haun in haun thegither luiked
Upon the elm trees heezin bi
The dike's risin ridge
Nearhaun oor hame,
Thochts o luve raise as aften
As leaves in spring
Upon braid enfurlin branches,
An leanin on ye
Ma soul fand rest.

Bit there is a sar Weird
Nane may jink;
Ower the muir,
Far a lane caunle glimmers frae hyne awa,
Yer bier is cairriet,
Amang fite funeral flags.
Ane fa raise at daybrakk
As mornin birdies flee,
Maun noo be happit
Like dwinin day bi gloamin knowes.

A wee son is yer memorial,
He greets an prigs
An sikks comfort frae me.
Bit I can gie him naethin,
Na toy can cheer him,
I can anely bosie him
An pet him rochly
As a cheil will dae.

Foo dowie oor chaumer
Far aince oor bowsters
Lay sae nearhaun thegither;
Frae daybrakk tae derkness
The day is full o wae,

Frae gloamin tae daybrakk
I sab an maen unsleepin,
An dinna ken far
Tae turn tae in ma wae.

I'll lue ye iver
Tho I may niver see ye.
I ken ye sleep on heich Hakahi,
Altho it's kent as cock-craw Ben,
Fur cheils brocht me the news.
I sclimm the steep an steeny heichts
Wi a painfu warssle—
Sic eeseless tcyauve,
Fur the livin ye I lued
I canna see,
Nae even fur a meenit dimly
Can ma een rest on ye.

It is the same meen
Brichtens this autumn nicht
That shone a year syne,
Bit thon year gaen by pairts
Us bi a year's braidth.

A wikk o murnin by,
I gae back hame,
An keekin roon oor chaumer
Frae ootside the alcove,
Ma een rest on yer bowster,
An dauchle there,
On yer bowster.

Lady Ise
Lady Ise, also known as Ise no Miyasudokoro, was a Japanese poet in the Imperial court's waka tradition. She was born to Fujiwara no Tsugukage of Ise Province, and eventually became the lover of the Prince Atsuyoshi and a concubine to Emperor Uda; her son by him was Prince Yuki-Akari.


On the Watter: Lady Ise
On the watter
Float thon boats:
Gin ane wis yer majesty,
'Berth yersel here! '
Is fit I wid wint tae say.


Lady Ise: The Mount of Death
This short poem laments the loss of the speaker's ‘darling boy.' The speaker implores the cuckoo, known for traveling between the realms of the living and the dead, to bring news from the ‘mount of death'

The Ben o Daith:
Ochone, that ye'd cam frae thonner,
Gowk bird
Syne o ma dearest loon,
Ye cud gie me news.

Hanging From the Branches: Lady Ise
Hingin frae the branches
O a green sauch
The spring rain
Is a
Threid o pearls.


Because we Suspected: Lady Ise
Because we jeloused
The bowster wid say ‘I ken'
We sleepit wioot it.
Hoosaeiver, ma nemme
Is blaikened aawye like stoor.


Doric Owersetts of 3 poems by Miroslav Holub

The Lesson- by Miroslav Holub
A tree cams in an sez, fin booin:
‘I'm a tree.'
A blaik tear faas frae the lift an sez:
‘I'm a bird.'
Doon a wyver's wab
a ferlie like luve
draas near
an sez:
‘I'm seelence.'

Bit bi the blaikboord sprauchles
a national democratic
cuddy in his weskcoat
an repeats,
heistin his lugs on ilkie side
repeats and repeats
‘I'm the engine o history
an
we aa
luve
gaun forrit
an
courage
an
the fechter's rooze.'

Aneth the classroom yett
treetles
a thin stringgle o bluid.
Fur here sterts
the massacre
o the pure.


The Door: Miroslav Holub
Gae an lowse the yett.
Mebbe ootbye there's
a tree, or a wid,
a gairden,
or an eildritch toun
Gae an lowse the yett.
Mebbe a tyke's raikin.
Mebbe ye'll see a face,
or an ee,
or the pictur
o a pictur.

Gae an lowse the yett.
Gin there's a haar
it'll clear.

Gae an lowse the yett.
Even gin there's anely
the derkness tickin,
even gin there's anely
the hollow win,
even gin
nethin
is thonner,
gae lowse the yet.

At least
there'll be
a draucht.


A Loon's Heid
In it there's a space-ship
an a projeck
fur daein awa with pianie lessons

An there is
Noah's ark,
that'll be first.

An there is
an aathegither new birdie
an aathegither new bawd
an aathegither new foggy bummer.

There is a river
that rins upwirds.

There's a multiplication table.

There's anti-maitter.

An it jist canna be trimmed.

I believe
that fit anely canna be trimmed
is a heid.

There's a rowth o promise
in the fack
that sae mony fowk hae heids.