The Crannog Woman (14 Poems In Scots) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

1.Sea Memorial
Slippin intae Fittie in the dreich sea haar
Twa score o whalermen, taigles in their hair
Langsyne they perished ower the herbour bar
Samhuin brings them hame frae their derk sea lair

Gowk's Day, the Oscar sailed. The lift sae fair
Cheenged tae a blizzard eftir braw sunsheen
Heistit up the vessel, cracked her like a nut
On the Grey Hope Rock, wi'in sicht o Aiberdeen

Slippin intae Fittie in the cauld sea haar
Twa score o ghaisties, swickit o their lives
Langsyne they perished ower the herbour bar
Made orphans ooto bairnies an widdas ooto wives

Steek the yett ahin ye, dinna luik ootbye
Pearls are their een an their hair is o the dulse
Green is their countenance, Daith is in their banes
Sea san's their life bluid, the tide is their pulse

2.Fat Wifie on the Beach
Is it a whale? Is it a peach?
It's a muckle fat wifie, laired on the beach
Her taes are yoky bit ooto reach
The muckle wifie laired on the beach

Is she a skiffie? Dis she teach?
Is she a chore or a benefit leech?
Is she a doctor? Dis she preach?
The muckle fat wifie laired on the beach

Is her spikk genteel or a seagull's screech?
Her tool cud dae wi a suppie bleach
Mebbe she's cairryin twins, baith breech
The muckle fat wifie laired on the beach

3.Bus Queue
Foo's yer doos. Aye peckin?
Got yer fare? Jist checkin!

Bus is late. Bus stop's stappit
Quine wi granny, heid-squar happit

Dreich doonpish. Double deckie
Chitterin druggie. Gallus brickie

Skreichin scurrie, hirplin doo
Wyin feenished, Bus here noo!


4.Backie at Gloamin
A goun wauchts like a ghaist in the weet air o gloaming
Rikk furls frae seety lums in the derkenin lift
The gairden's teem o fowk. The anely soun's
The skelp o win-wheeped claes

Deep in the shaddaas a kittlin keeks
Wi spuuky, waukrife een
Wytin fur moose or ratten tae catch all cleuk

A fell onchancy time's the hauf-licht gloamin
Street lamps leam ower the cassies, an oorie lowe

Somelike afore an ailin body dees
The braith in the thrapple snags foraye on seelence.


5.The Waukrife Win
The waukrife win boos ower the birks
It skreichs roon hooses an ferms an kirks

It takks an taigles the rikk like oo
It skitters the scurries ahin the ploo

It gars the stoor gang tapsalteerie
It sabs doon lums, baith fly an fearie

An naebody kens far it sleeps at nicht
Bit the hoolet, the brock, an the starnies bricht


6.The Flittin
Naethin bides at Whinnyfauld
Birds stop ower passin ben
Clouds scud aff tae hetter climes
Wins race on tae uplan fen
Ile-wife lassie blythe an cheery
Flittin's packit... gled tae leave
Cauld an mochie is the landscape
Dreich an dowie. Fit's tae grieve?


7.Dunkeld Fountain
Spurgies skail frae the stane
A linn o feathers

Wee stoaters, randy an gallus
Kickin up stooshies in the stoor

Rigged oot deuce an swankie
A genteel pertrick watches frae a ledge
Ower wechty fur aerobatics

The spurgies jink an hotter
Like berries on the byle
In a warlock’s kitchie


8.Deer on Snawy Bens
Ooto the cauld an grey they stepped
Ooto the muirlan mist
Gracefu an braw’s the skinklin stars
On tae a secret tryst

Ane fell reid tae a poacher's gun
Anither drooned in the burn
Anely the third wis left alive
In the cauld, at the Auld Year's turn.


9.Spring at King's College
Gean blossom shouers sweet petals ower the girse
Pink, fite an green, a Beltane benison
The saft-like breeze comes dauncin doucely ben

Frae auld St Machar an the skinklin Don
Daffs jink their heids like lammies on the teat
The pee the beds show aff their yalla hue
Spring shakks a shank alang the Chanonry
Rigged oot in skyrie orange, reid an blue
In backies washin wallops in the win
The cobbles an the waas soak up the sun
Wee spurgies cheep amang the showdin boughs

Blaik wyvers showd in moose-wabs newly spun
Splayed ower the emerant girse bi Elphinstane
A student woos his luv wi word an buik
Aneth a muckle tree far coortin doos
Purr an kinoodle in their ain wee neuk

The warld is thrang wi cheepers, nests, an wings
An this is foo the Sizzen comes tae King's.


10.The Liggers' Stane: tune; The Parting Glass
The Lord o the Isles cam Marchin East
Untae the Garioch he has gaen
Tae spread the pouer o the Heilan clans
Macleod, Macdonald and Maclean.
An for Harlaw the Trades set oot
Oor citizen-wirkers, Provost, Thane
Tae save the toun o Aiberdeen
Frae fire an spulzie, rape an pain
For man maun fecht an weemin bide
Tae hug the hairth an the bairns at hame
Bit ilkie army has its wives
Fa follae their men tae the drum's refrain
An in the clash o sword an shield
Fin bluid rins doon the braes like rain
Fit lass o mettle could idly staun
Tae watch her luv cut doon an slain?

Sax hunner years they've slumbered quaet
The lassies neth the Liggers' Stane
The fechtin quines fa jyned the lines
Their beauty crummlit inno stoor an bane
The lang lythe park bi Bennachie
Tae its kind hairt the deid has taen
An Heilan wife wi Lowlan lass
Thegither sleep aneth the ripenin grain


Their men are praised in verse an sang
The heroes o Harlaw's reid plain
Spare the antrin thocht for the nameless quines
That lie aneth the Liggars' Stane

The Lord o the Isles merched tae the Wast
Awa frae the Garioch he has gaen
Bit gin ye speired fa won the day
There war orphan bairns wad answer nane.

11.Jim: A Scots Owersett o an English translation o a poem bi Yevgenv Rein b.1936
Nikolay Gumilyov
An auld dosser frae Koktebel
Eleven dug years auld
An near-haun pure-bluid German shepherd
Yer sprauchlin aneth ma fit,
Takkin tae tent o the TV
An the steer an stramash ootby

There's the fitba semi-final on thon scunnersome box
An the latest sklaik roon the table
Ye dinna gie a hee-haw tae thon
Bit yer kent in hyne-aff airts, ye ken
Fowk mynd ye
In Lunnon, New York, Montreal
In San Francisco, Munich an Paris
Mony fowk hae bin throwe this veranda
Ye clinkit yer chyne tae greet them
An barked blithely, or jist tae lat them ken ye war aroon
Syne we tuik aff yer collar
Ye raxxed oot yer breist
An made yer entrance onno the veranda

'Jim! ' they cried lood tae ye, 'Wee Jimmie, Jimlet! '
Ye likit thon
Bit the dignity wis the foremaist thing
Guests may come an gyang
Bit the German shepherd ay bides
Year eftir year guests cam
Year eftir year guests newsed
Suppit beer, tea, milk, vodkay
An spak funny wee wirds ower and ower
'mondrian, ' 'chagall', 'yevtushenko'
'He's awa', 'She's awa', ‘They're leavin'
'kabakov', 'sapgir', 'savitsky', 'brodsky'
'jackson pollack', v.v. nabokov', 'limonov'
An again, 'They've left, ' 'They're leavin', 'They'll be leavin.'

It's nae sae croodit noo on the balcony
Bit Clava the milkie aywis comes
Wi milk in the pail an the dampt box skreichs an fizzes

Are ye dwaumin, Jim ma dug? Ye hae the richt tae
I'm doverin aff afore the TV
Ye ken oor dreams are far sweeter
Than aa the steer an stramash
We've nae reached the eyn o the century yet
My weel-lued dug
Fit wye are we sae rugged back
Inno oor bairnhood, fin we clinkit oor chynes?


Twa Poems owersett in Scots o English translations o the wark o Oktay Rifat 1914-1988

12. Pink Hoose on the Bosphorus
There are quines crisp as lettuce
Their moos an nebs furled an furly
They're dowpit, cross leggit on the ferries
The win blaws an fin he luiks
A man keeks at sichts that gar his hairt stoon

Oh Istanbul, auld deevil that ye are!
Doon at Findikli there's fun and games.
A line in ma haun wi a hunner hyeuks
I yark like the Nor win amang the tunny
Frae Captain Turgut's boatie.

I've niver bin tae Orhan's mools
At Rumelihisar
I niver socht tae gyang.

Noo, wi fresh breid, a daud o fite cheese
He'd be jist here
Suppin raki an watchin the sea

I lowp frae the quay tae the watter
Fish aneth me
Clouds abeen
The roch Bosphorus laps ma mou
I sweem straicht tae the pink hoose on the waiter's rim


13.Milkin Time
'Pit the peaches on the shelf, let the kitchie yoam o peaches! '
Quo the cheil, an raise frae the bench tae gyang an milk the coo

The wumman saw the coo keekin at the hey while she wis bein milkit.
A tin pailie aneth, teats in his hauns, sidie-on
The chiel pechs as he puus doon the milk rived frae clover an thyme
Blaik an fite spirks in the caller evenin

She gaed tae the kitchie, redd up the peaches on the shelf
Noo the flooerpot in the keekin-glaiss, the braw-shewed bowster
The licht atween the beams, the purple o the kilim
Noo even the wyvers yoam o peaches
The lift is peach-covered, the clouds yoam o peaches

14.Song; The Neptune: tune; The Baleena
The Neptune wis a vessel, a handfsome privateer
Her darg wistae attack the French an reive teir gowd an gear
James Scott he was her maister, an mony a prize he won
Frae the herbour o Portsoy she sailed weel rigged wi sail an gun

Bit aff the Scottish coastline, the Neptune she wis taen
Bi the Boston ‘Independence’ wi caiiriage guns an men
The Captain he wis captured an tae the Yankee sloop
Wis led at gunpynt tae the deck
Wi mony a skirl an whoop

Twa Boston tars war stationed, upon the Neptune syne
Tae steer their prize fur Americay upon the ocean brine
Bit the Portsoy crewmen focht them, an won bi grit an guile
An the Boston tars war clapt in chynes inbye Banff’s sturdy jyle

Sae here's tae the Portsoy pirates, fa feared nae man nor beast
An ruled the waves aroon the coast, an founded many a feast
Wi smuggled meat an brandy, sent the Yankees ower the wave
For anither destination far the seamen warna brave!