Best Scots Poems
Sing tae me the auld sangs that ah learnt when a bairn,
Sitting at ma mithers knee hearin the lilting tunes,
Carrying me far awa in ma mind
Wurds o the land whaur ah live
An love aw the deys o ma life.
The auld sangs o Caledonia uv heroes ,fermers an unco ithers,
Auld yins wi tales tae tell o plooghmen wi ther hoarses
Running trecks in the fields
Ready fur seed hoping tae grow,
Berley,oats and wheat an aw.
O shepherds an ther dugs so clever an quick,
Chasing the yowes ower hill an glen,
Hardy people wummin an men,
Oot in a wethers hail,rain ur sna,
Lookin fur the yin that’s lost.
Auld sangs bring memories back pintin the wey tae gaw,
Daw we daur tae learn from them wisdom an aw,
Wi a sigh an a tear in oor een,
At the end o the year wi sentiment seen
Auld sangs agin lustily sung.
Andrew mcintyre 18 lanuary 2021.
“Gaun an bile yer heid” he bawled oot,
As he stood in the middle o the cobbled street.
Tae nae yin in particular.
Did he vent his anger.
Fu as a whaulk he staggered and swayed
Wan pin rooted tae the graun,
Ither yin moved like a dervish,
Gaun naewhaur fast.
He should of been hame
Wi his wifie and weans
But naw he insisted
Wi a wee refreshment wi his pals.
Jist a hauf an a hauf an a wee blether
Pittin the world tae rights.
But man the craik was brill that nicht
Whit a pity it ended in a fecht.
Nothing though like the fecht
He wid huv when at home.
His wifie stood livid at the door
Tears a dripping ontae the floor
Weans moaning and bawling
Nae dinner again old mans supping fu.
Setterday nicht in Glasga toon
Lying sprawled an fu unner the moon,
©Andrew P McIntyre 2015-05-28.
A Tale of the sea.
Moonlight like little diamonds floating
upon a midnight cold sea
whale song eerily in the distance calls
the little ship sailing on the wind
taking those within to a secret place.
time for them is finished and at an end
wrapped in the gunwales keeping warm
seabirds in the dark silently fly
no need for them to cry.
beauties of the deep blue sea
accompany the ship to its final home.
swishing in to harbour wall
white and sad in midnights thrall.
a sigh floats in the air
your home,
a whisper on the wind.
The Watergaw
by Hugh MacDiarmid
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
One wet forenight in the sheep-shearing season
I saw the uncanniest thing—
a watergaw with its wavering light
shining beyond the wild downpour of rain ...
and I thought of the last wild look that you gave
when you knew you were destined for the grave.
There was no light in the skylark's nest
that night—no—nor any in mine;
but now often I've thought of that foolish light
and of these irrational hearts of men ...
and I think that, perhaps, at last I ken
what your look meant then.
Hugh MacDiarmid wrote "The Watergaw" in a Scots dialect. I have translated or "modernized" the poem into modern English to make it easier to read and understand.
Keywords/Tags: Scotland, Scot, Scottish, Scots dialect, night, nightfall, rain, grave, death, death of a friend, light, lights, watergaw, heart, heartache, heartbroken, broken heart, heart song
Someone told me that all Smythes are crazy, and I believed them
At first, until I met one
Who was delightful, and kind, and did not generalize people
He gave me a chance, which was a marvelous thing.
For I had not been willing to give him one.
Another told me that old women are dried up.
Not knowing any, I believed it.
Until I became an old woman
And realized I am more excited about life than I have ever been.
I paint, cartoon, dance, play racquetball, and write poetry.
So I am not dried up.
They told me that all white people are stuck up.
I looked at my skin. It is peach not white.
I was relieved, for when they tell me, I usually believe it
Until I meet one.
And realize when we are talking about people
ALL never makes sense.
I should have known this right away.
I am an identical twin, and we agree on practically nothing.
My uncle told me that the Scottish are stingy; I believed him
Because I was young, and I had never met one.
I did not even know what they were.
But then I grew up and had a DNA test.
And guess what? I am Scottish.
And I am not stingy, so I guess that one is out the window too.
My uncle is still smirking about this one.