Sit doon,
Mrs Scot said.
I looked around
the sitting room.
In th' armchair,
she added pointing
to an old armchair.
Will Hannah be long?
I said.
Hoo dae Ah ken,
she said,
walking off
into the passage,
smoke from
her cigarette
following after her.
I sat down
and looked around
the room.
HANNAH
TH' BOY'S HAUR,
she bellowed
from the kitchen.
Won't be long,
Hannah replied
from the bog.
I hoped Mrs Scot
would not return
to speak to me
without an interpreter.
Dornt keep heem
tay lang,
Mrs Scot said firmly.
I rubbed my crucifix
with my thumb
in my pocket.
The bog door unlocked
and Hannah came into
the sitting room:
sorry about that,
she said,
call of nature,
or as Mum says
caa ay nature.
She smiled;
I smiled weakly.
So where we going?
Hannah said.
There's a film
we can see,
I said,
if you've money,
or we can go swimming
in the swimming baths.
I've no money,
but swimming seems
a good idea;
I'll just get my stuff
and ask Mum
for a few pence.
So off she went;
I sat listening,
fingers held
in each other
forming a church
kind of thing.
Bunsens?
ye aye want bunsens,
her mother said.
Just a few pence
for the locker,
Hannah said.
Puckle bon
mah god,
her mother said.
I sat staring
at the wall
where a picture of man
in a kilt stared
back at me.
The resemblance
to Hannah's mother
and the man
was plain to see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good story poem, entertaining too. Thanks for sharing.