Scots Poems From Muninn And Huginn Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Aiberdeen 2023
It's Mey in Aiberdeen, the Castlegate.
Ootside Archie Simpsons, fowk sit at tables
On the street, boozin in the pleisunt, buttery sun
Luvers fusper wirds as fowk hash by
Into the Coort, or wyte at stops fur buses

In the herbour at Nigg, sleek cruise ships
Scale their cargo o furreign towrists
On boord they hae drunk champagne,
Daunced tae the captive band. Frae the North Sea
A skweel o dolphins lowp tae bid them walcam

Like the Vikings o auld, bit tamed, wi varicose veins
Spennin their nest eggs, rinnin awa frae death
In a journey o delichts tae kittle their dwinin senses

Mebbe they'll veesit oor city centre
Oor shoppin malls, oor crummlin graveyaird
Opposite Macdonalds, jyne the toonsfowk
On Mey Day, hashin by weirin their fake tan,
The quines in their skirts wee as belts
The loons like Maoris, wi their shaved, patterned skulls

Mebbe they'll ett in oor restaurants
Thai, Chinese, Mexican, Indian, Vietnamese
Or stop an lippen tae pan pipe players,
Nigerian evangelists, Rumanian accordion buskers
Or drap a coin in the cup o a wumman beggar
Scarf knottit unner her chin

Oors is a toon o students frae aa the airts
Twa rivers teem their waters inno the sea
Watter has aye brocht cheenges tae oor shore

The pavements are skittered wi gull keech
An chuddy splats. The toon at nicht
Is claimed bi the young, stottin atween the howfs
In their braws, sarks flappin, gweed natured
Singin aff key, blooteret on blue wickeds.

Ilkie pedestrian cairries a warld inbye them:
Beijing, Lagos, the Muckle Furth stravaigin oor Scots airt
Jist as I hae seen Beijing through a mist
Canyons o oorie skyscrapers, risin up foraye
Masel, tint like a midgie dwarfed bi a muir.

Doric Wird Rap
Rowies, stovies, pizmeal brose
Bidie-in, sitooteries, semmit, sark, brose
Cullen skink, puddock, pirn-taed loon
Turra coo, sowens, hotch potch, toun
Stoor-sooker, futterat, bubblyjock
Skinnymalinkie lang legs, bubblyjock
Lowpin trootie, a hoolet fleein
A chorer, a bosker, a futtly beilin
A flee cemetery an a foggy bummer
A horny-gollach an a daft wee scunner

Bosker! Humdinger! Gie yersels a bosie
Doric films showin that the future's rosy


Doric 2023
The Doric's like an octopus eenoo
It's branchin oot in umpteen different wyes
On tea-tools, bloggers' sites, fridge magnets, sarks
It's lowpin up in e-mails. Advertise-
Ments cairry Doric's snappy spikk
Films, radio, schule buiks an magazines
Wee café's cairry laminated phrases
Ye'll see't on First bus, newspapers, in reams
O ballads, competitions. Fowk are prood
Tae use the leid North Easters lue tae hear
Doric's the mither hen. Greet her new brood!
It's couthie, waeful, suitin ony mood!

Nuckelavee
Oh Orkney is a stormy isle
The Vikings kent it weel
An in thon icy watters
There bides a coorse sea deil

Nuckelavee's the ogre's name
A shelt an rider jyned
His heid is sivven times that o man
His teeth, droned sailors grind

His mou's as wide as ony whale
Blaik rikk blaws frae his thrapple
A flippers wallop frae his shanks
A deevil, cruel an soople

His veins, like yalla pyson vines
Haid bluid as blaik as tar
His ae reid ee is flamin reid
His roar's heard frae afar

He's hairless, skinless, has raw flesh
Like a skinned corpse, ugsome, bare
He hides awa in wintertime
Rainwatter flegs him sair

In simmer he'll be seen on lan
Heid rowin, side bi side
He blichts the oats wi a sea gust
Brings mildew on the tide

He casts a plague on man an breet
Caas livestock ower heich rocks
He connachs veg wi pysonous braith
Makks drucht tae kill the craps

An gin ye gaither dulse inshore
Tae burn it, up frae Hell
Wi Mortasheen, he'll kill yer horse
Sae pouerfu is his spell

Yer anely hope o jinkin daith
Gin Nuckleavee ye meet
Is tae low power rinnin watter
Yer life is in yer feet


PROVERBS AND SAYINGS OF CROMAR.
Absence o body is better than presence o mind in an accident.
A clean dud's aye coothie, as the wife said when she turned her sark
A cloot abeen a cloot tae haud the win aboot
Fa would sup wi the deil would need a lang speen
Fed wi a teem speen
Fen pride comes in at the door, love gaes oot at the lum
Fen the tod preaches, takk tent o the lambs
Forced prayers are nae devotion.
Gin ye dinna steal yer neebor's kail dinna loup his dyke.
God fits the back tae the burden.
God tempers the win tae the shorn lamb.
Hair an horn grows on shargers
He disna aye ride fen he saidles
He has mair jaw than judgment.
He hasnae the gumption o a suckin turkey
It's nae eese tae keep a dog an bark yersel
It's the life o an auld hat tae be weel cocket
Lat him queel in the skin he got hett in
Lat sleepin dogs lie lest they rise an bite
Learn young, learn fair, learn aul, learn sair.
Lichtly come, lichtly gang.
Like a bad shillin, aye comin back.
Like a whale in a ban box
Like the heilanman's gun, lacks naethin but lock stock an barrel
Muckle schreechin for little oo (wool) .
Mair by luck than gweed management
Mak yer feet yer freens.
Man proposes, but God disposes.
Mend the aul an hain the new
Money maks the mare tae go whether sha hae a tail or no.
Mony a fair face that's scant o grace.
Mony a ane speers the road he kens weel.
Nae cadger cries stinkin fish
Nane sae blin as he fa winna see
New lairds hae new laws
Prayer an provinder hinder nane
Scandal's like dirt: the mair it's stepped on the wider it spreads
Set a stoot hert tae a stey brae
Sellin her hen on a rainy day
Short accoonts makk lang freens
Yer caain yer hogs tae an ill market
Ye maun creep afore ye gang
Ye may wash aff dirt, but never a dun hide
Ye micht eat yer auld sheen if ye butter them weel
Ye needna eat the coo an worry o the tail
Ye'd speer the tail frae a docket dog


Carrot Sunday
Gin yer wintin tae faa wi a bairn
An tae stert a wee family ye yearn
Jist follae the rabbit
An howk up a carrot
An a bonnie wee babby ye'll earn

Sae a carrot ye find in a park
Mebbe helps ye tae see in the dark
Bit it makks mair than cake
An sae makk nae mistake
It micht boost ye wi its vital spark


The Veesion
A braw an eildritch sign wis seen
A wumman claithed in bolts o sun,
The meen lay in ablow her feet
A web o starnies roon her spun

Her een wir dyewy like the dawn
Her hair like wreaths o lilac blew
An clouds o fawns stude bi her side
An ower her heid, three ravens flew
An she wis neither young nor auld
Her face wis timeless, free o stain
An o the sorras o the warld
Fin ere she grat, fell doon like rain
She wis a craitur o the wild
The weet, the wids, the wattergaw
An far she wauked, nae fitpreint left
On girse or moss or pristine snaa

Ae glisk an she wid vanish frae
The sicht o mortals, syne unseen
She meltit back intae the trees
As if hersel had niver been

Scots Owersett o The Blootert Boat bi Arthur Rimbaud
As I wis gaun doon unfeelin rivers,
I nae langer felt masel guided bi hauliers:
Skirlin reidskins hid taen them as targets
An nailed them nyaakit tae coloured stakes.

I didnae takk tent o ony crews,
The cairrier o Flemish wheat or Inglis cottons
Fin wi ma hauliers this stooshie stoppit
The rivers lat me gae fariver I wintit.

Intae the gurly wheepin o the tides
Mair heedless than bairnies' harns the ither winter
I ran! An lowsed Peninsulas
Hinna unnergaen a mair triumphant melee

The storm blessed ma sea vigils
Lichter than a cork I daunced on the waves
That are caaed aybydan rollers o victims,
Ten nichts, wioot missin the gyte ee o the lichthooses!

Sweter than the flesh o hard aipples is tae bairns
The green watter won intae ma hull o fir
An washed me o spirks o blue wine
An cowk, skitterin rudder an grapplin-hyeuk

An frae then on I bathed in the Poem
O the Sea, steepit wi starnies an milkieness
Ettin the blue verses; far, like a peely-wally licht-hairtit
Daud o flotsam, a thochtfu drooned body whyles sinks

Far o a suddenty dyein the blueness, wudness
An slaw rhythms aneth the straikin o daylicht,
Stranger than booze, vaster than oor clarsachs
The wersh reidness o luve hotters!

I ken the lift burstin wi lichtnin, an the watterspoots
An the spindrift an the currents; I ken the gloamin
An daybrakk joyfu as a heeze o doos
An whyles I hae seen fit man thocht he saw!

I hae seen the laigh sun spottit wi ither-warldly horrors,
Lichtin up, wi lang violet swatches,
Unca like actors o verra auncient dramas,
The waves rowin hyne aff their chitterin o shutters!

I hae dreamed o the green nicht wi daizzled snaws
A kiss slawly risin tae the een o the sea,
The circulation o unkent saps,
An the yalla an blue waukenin o singin phosphorous!

I follaed durin pregnant months the swall,
Like wud coos, in its fecht agin the reefs,
Wioot dreamin that the glimmerin feet o the Marys
Could haud back the snoot o the whizzlin Oceans!

I strukk agin, ye ken, unbelievable Floridas
Mellin wi flooers, panthers' een and human
Skin! Wattergaws streetched like bridal reins
Unner the horizon o the seas tae greenish herds!

I hae seen muckle bogs hotter, fish-traps
Far a hale whale turns fooshty in the rushes!
Linns o watter in the midst o a calm,
An the distances thunnerin tae the abyss!

Glaciers, suns o siller, pearlin waves, lifts o reid aisse!
Ugsome treelips at the eyn o broon gulfs
Far muckle serpents etten bi bedbugs
Faa doon frae gnarled trees wi blaik guff!
I wid hae likit tae shaw bairns thon sunfish
O the blue wave, the fish o gowd, the singin fish.
—Faem o flooers showdit ma driftin
An unspikkable wins winged me betimes.
Whyles a martyr weariet o poles an zones,
The sea, fas sab vrocht ma gentle roll,
Brocht up tae me her derk flooers wi yalla sookers
An I bedd, like a wumman on her knees...

Like an island haivin on ma sides the argy-bargies
An keech o birds skreichin wi yalla een
An I sailed on, fin throwe ma dweeble towes
Drooned cheils sank backwird tae sleep!

Noo I, a boatie tint in the foliage o caves,
Haived bi the storm intae the birdless air
I, fas watter-drunk frame widnae hae bin rescued
Bi the Monitors an the Hanseatic sailboats;

Free, rikkin, tapped wi violet fog,
I fa pierced the reiddenin lift like a waa,
Cairryin tasty jam fur gweed poets
Lichens o sunlicht an mucus o blue,

Fa ran, spirkit wi wee electric meens,
A wud plank, convoyed bi blaik seashelts,
Fin Julys haimmer doon wi cloors o clubs
The ultramarine lift wi burnin funnels;

I, fa trimmlit, hearin at fifty leagues aff
The maenin o the Behemoths in heat an the thick maelstroms,
Aybydan spinner o the blue calm
I miss Europe wi its auncient railins

I hae seen hyne aff starnies archipelagos! an islands
Fas deleerious lifts are open tae the sea-traiveller:
—Is it in thon boddomless nichts that ye sleep an exile yersel,
Million gowden birdies, o future virr? -

Bit, in truith, I hae grat ower muckle! Dawns are hairtbrakkin.
Ilkie meen is awfu an ilkie sun wersh.
Stingin luve his swalled me wi wechtiness
O lat ma keel burst! O lat me gae intae the sea!
Gin I wint watter o Europe, it's the blaik
Cauld puddle far in the swete-smellin gloamin
A hunkered bairn fu o wae lowses
A boatie as dweeble as a Mey butterflee.
Nae langer can I, bathed in yer wearieness, o waves,
Follae in the wake o the cotton boaties,
Nor cross ower the pride o flags an flames,
Nor sweem aneth the terrible een o the jyle ships.


Coronation Day
We hae a fower oor journey afore us
Getting ready tae face the road,
The radio bleats oot a commentary
O the King an Queen Consort's procession
Settin aff frae Buckingham Palace tae Westminster Abbey

Ma loon's wave length's set fur fitbaa,
Like mony ither Scots, he braves the haar
The Royal journey sterts in a gowd state coach,
Oors in a faimily car.

The road is happit in fog, the cars in front
Are ghaists, the weather's weety
We hit a pothole, the rear wheel tholes a dunt

Doon in Lunnon the great an the guid
Watch the Archbishop place the croon o
St Edward on the king's heid at noon

We, betimes, birr on doon the motorwye,
Pass a car upturned on its back
Like a cowpit beetle, its occupants missin
In A & E or the morgue, life gaun awry
Naebody kens fit weird they're gaun tae dree
Ae meenit, aathin's braw, the neist brings wae
In Westminster Abbey, aa's pomp an ceremony

The motorwye needs aa a driver's senses
Larries pass like spectres, cairryin gear
Coronation chucken, Empire biscuits
Bananas frae the Commonwealth. A steer
O win gars ae van swerve a swey
We cairry on, a thunnerpelt dings doon
The rain rams hard as bullets aff the road
An aye the fog that blinns the wye aheid
An warnins flash, bring worry overload
In Lunnon in the gowd state coach the King
An Queen are flanked bi loyal body guairds
The warld luiks on up tae the the balcony
The newsfowk race tae capture picturs, wirds
An we hae reached oor journey's eyn as weel
Nae trumpets, horns, or pipes, soond oor arrival
Bit as wi aabody, these onchancy times
It's aa aboot an endurance an survival


Scots Owersett o When I was Fair and Young, bi Queen Elizabeth I
Fin I wis fair an young, syne favour sheened on me;
Bi mony wis I socht their mistress fur tae be.
Bit I did scorn them aa, an reponed tae them there,
Gae, gae, seek itherwye, an prig wi me nae mair.

Foo mony greetin een I gart tae pine in wae;
Foo mony sighin hairts I turned them aa astray
Yet I the prooder grew, an reponed tae aa there,
Gae, gae, seek itherwye, an prig wi me nae mair.

Then spakk fair Venus' son, thon prood victorious lad,
An quo ye dainty dame, since that ye me affhaud,
I will sae pyke yer plumes, ye'll takk me, queen sae fair
Gae, gae, seek itherwye, an prig wi me nae mair.

Fin he had spakk thon wirds sic cheenge grew in ma breist,
That neither nicht nur day I could takk ony rest.
Syne, och I did repent, the repon I made sair
Gae, gae, seek itherwye, an prig wi me nae mair.