Sule Skerry Poem by mark littler
Sule Skerry
A seikie silkie seal waits to be killed
Spears like leaves
Spears like branches
We will make a song for fire
A whale song
Anything out of the depths stinks
Her seikie silkie man is ashore
Courting our cow maids
Milk pale in their graveyard worsted cloths
One holds to her baby
Father leaving a chain of wreckers gold
A chain like the one you are wearing
My brother
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/19/2024 4:34:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
