Scots Owersets In Scots Of Poems By Tagaki Kyozo Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Waddin Nicht

Thon’s anely the saughs reeshlin
Blawn bi the win
Dinna greet
Dinna greet
Brides shouldna greet
Are ye greetin because we’ve nae siller?
Foo did we mairry in this dowie wye?
We can makk on we’re playin at hoosies

We haud oor shargeret bodies thegither
Bit dinna get hett
Ochone, we’re like a pair o flees warsslin eftir the sun
Frae the morn ye’ll gang back tae the clachan cooncil offices again
In purple hakama an blaik shawl,
Waesome bride an groom!
Dinna greet
Dinna greet
There’s naethin tae be frichtened o
Thon’s anely the saughs pairtin,
Blawn bi the win


Sea Rose

I thocht
I wad get ma ain back on the bullies
Bit I hidna the smeddum
Aneth the sea rose bi the boat hoose
I beeriet ma knife an grat

Ochone, the green fruit o the sea rose tastit soor
As I glowered at the fite-tippit waves
Far oot at sea


Stanes

Oh ma raivelled harns!
Stanes, steppit on, bide quaet
Gin I kept quaet
Could I be a stane as weel?

This scunnerin life: aneth the kitchie sink
We can spy wirms wummlin
Is there naebody fa’ll
Haive me intae the lift
Like a stane?


The Winter Meen

I cloored ma wife an gaed oot an saw
The meen like ten thoosan lichties

Ower the saft sna eftir a sna stom
I’m waukin wi nae thocht tae far I’m gaun

Fit makks me hate sae forcie?
Fin we hate, we’re mair serious than fin we lue
Sae noo, foo dae I stert feelin like I lue her again?

Aathin’s like thon sna storm
Fin it’s ower, we see
The meen like a thoosan lichties


Puir Hairst

This cauld rain sune turns tae sna
Foo dweeble thon rice shoots!
Yet we hae tae keep duntin an auld ile can
Tae fleg aff thon screichin spurgies
The sea souns as if a storm’s blawin up
A heeze o scurries skirlin abune aa
A faither is readin wi teem een a letter frae
His dother, wirkin at a cottin-spinnin mill
The mither is ettlin tae mak a meal frae chappit tatties
She scrattit up frae the parks
Bit the lowe winna takk, it jist smuchters
The bairn’s squallichin.
Fit a scunner o a nicht!


Fairm-lad

I blew frae ma snoot
Snotters green as rice-pests


Fisher-lad

I canna get a keek at the quines
For yer muckle bihoochie


Sna storm

Bairns
Hash on an coorie doon
D’ye hear thon?
It’s a fite wolf yowlin
As he rins roon the hoose.

Frae a derk neuk up in the laft
Yer deid granma an granda
Are glowerin at ye
Bairns
Hash on an gyang tae bed


Dawn

I can hear somebody piddlin
Is it ye, mither?
Throw the thick haar
Faither’s cam back
Wi fish scales aa owerhis hide
‘We’ve got a muckle catch! ’


Autumn

A dragonflee
On a washin line o hippens
(she wis merriet last year)
The corn-staaks- brukken skeletons
Soun o new claith bein threwshed
Gart ma heid stoon


Leverick

The colour o the lift I saw frae ma cradle wis
The colour o a penny fussle ma mither gied me


Seety Calendar

On the day ma sister wis merriet
Siller berries in the gairden war reid as reid

On the day oor mither deed
A weetie sna wis faain

On the day oor faither deed
The ice on the reef had sterted tae thaw

On the evenin I left hame for gweed
It wis the simmer fireworks festival


Early Spring (at Gappo Park)

Thon park bi the sea far anely pine trees thrive
Is fey an teem
Nae young quines play here

Camin oot on the beach
We fin the east win blawin roch

The tang o fizzy ale
Yet haunts ma tongue

Ma frien, dowpit doon on the brukken bench
Is tellin me orra jokes, bit
His wirds are snatched
Awa bi the win


Shooer

Didn’t I tell ye thon merriege widna be gweed?
-Thon hair gee-gaw got brukken
There’s nae eese girnin aboot it noo
-Thrissles blawin in the sheugh
Gweedman, foo divn’t ye spikk?
-Shooer passin ower the bare knowe parks
Ye needna cam rinnin hame tae us, dother
-The bus cairres her awa ahin the pine wid


Lichtnin ower beds o Rice Seedlins
Puddock are craikin an whyles
There are flashes o lichtnin ower the rigs o rice seedlins

She still hisna cam oot

Rain sterts tae faa
I’m like a droont ratten
Bit I’m nae shiftin frae here

The rain’s growin heavier
An the puddocks hae stoppit craikin

It’s seems gey late noo
The lichts in her hoose hae aa bin turned aff


Mither

O a suddenty, I winted a sook o milk
An I breenged inno the hoose
Mither wis washin her fite skin
In the dim kitchie
Fin I chawed on her briests
Her milk tasted unca satty
(Ye washed in seawater, didn’t ye mammy?)

Sune eftir thin, she deed
Nae lang eftir she’d gaen me her satty milk tae drink


Lowe in the Park

Noo, jist eftir the sna his thawed
In the park neist tae the pine wid
Bairns hae stertit a bonfire
The deid girse has kinnelt
An spreid its flames
The bairns like the bonfire
Are lowpin heelstergowdie, tapsalteerie