Doon Poems | Examples

ek cheenal hoon

Iffat o paak damani, ab shaaz shaaz hai
Baatin mera ayyaar, main mashhoor daghaal hoon
Bazaar mein har shay ki qeemat to hai magar
Main har shay se arzaa'n, faqat ek riyal hoon.

Haseeno ko hun hasil, main aurat wabaal hoon
Tum bhi haseen ho? To main tumhara hi maal hoon
Titli hoon, khushnuma phoolon par hai nazar
Tum bhi jo gul-badan ho? main tum ko halaal hoon.

Masoom dikhti hoon, bazahir paarsa bhi hoon
Parday ke peeche burai ki a‘la misaal hoon
Aashiq kare israar to kapray utaar doon
Taqaddus ke naam par, bamsil fitna-e-Dajjal hoon.

Mera har rang hai dhoka, mera har roop pur-fareb
Main baaghi, main sarkash, main zehr-e-qital hoon
Yeh husn, yeh nazakat, yeh kirdar sab fareb
Chadar bhi barhana, main jahannum ki shaal hoon.

Paarsayi ke libaas mein paarsa nahin hoon main
Main faasiqa, main faajira, main Iblees ki chaal hoon
Yeh rasam asr-e-haazir hai, na sharam hai na ghairat hai
Hoon to main paarsa, magar! main ek chhinal hoon

For you, I shall

For your sake, this heart that isn't even close to me, I shall make it yours.  
If you come and reside within me, I shall turn that very heart into a temple.  
Weaving a swing from your dreams, I shall rock you upon it from dawn to dusk.  
But who am I in front of you? For you, I shall lose myself completely.  
If the stars refuse to befriend me, I shall steal them from the moon and name them after you.  
Even if you wish to walk upon a withered graveyard, I shall bloom into flowers along your path.  
And if you wish to sleep but find no cover, I shall spread my body as the softest blanket for you.



Tere khatir yeh dil jo mere hi kareeb nahi, use bhi apna loon
Tu jo aake bas jaye mujhme, ussi dil ko mandir bana loon
Khwabon ke tere jhoola bana kar, sawere shaam tujhe uspe jhula doon
Khair tere saamne main hoon bhi kya, tere khatir main khud ko gawa doon
Taare jo naa dost ho mere, chaand se unhe chura ke tere naam kar doon
Murjhe kabristan pe tu chalna bhi chaahe, toh main tere raaston main phool ban jaun
Tu sona chahe agar aur chadar na mile kahi, mere jism se tujhe narm chadar bichaa jaun

Anjaan

Tumse anjaan toh nahi, par pehchaan itni mukammal bhi nahi.
Tumse har lamha juda hai, par kahani-e-safar itna saral bhi nahi.
Tere lafzon ki khamoshi, kuch raaz chhupati hai.
Main samajhna toh chaahun, par lafz kahan ban paati hai.

Tum jo ho, woh shayad waqt ka ek haseen ishara ho.
Par mera haal-e-dil, ab tak khud se bhi pyaara ho.
Tumse itni waqif bhi nahi ki har raaz khol doon.
Par itna ajnabi bhi nahi jo har jazbaat tol doon.

Kaise kahoon mera haal-e-dil?
Har khwaab mein tera hi manzar mile.
Chaahun bayaan karna, magar lafz kho jaayein.
Tere bina yeh daastaan adhoori reh jaaye.

Tu jo hai, duaon ka asar lagta hai.
Teri har muskaan mein sehar lagta hai.
Khamoshiyon mein bhi teri baatein sunoon.
Tere saath har dard ko hanskar banoon.

Tumse ajnabi nahi, par waqif bhi poori tarah nahi.
Teri har yaad mein kuch adhoora sa basta kahin.
Safar-e-kahani, tujhse hi roshan hai.
Tere bina yeh safar bas ek dhokha sa dhundhla pal hai.

Tere Khaas Hone Ka Ehsaas

Tujhse shikaayat nahi rakhti main,
Tere manaane ka andaaz,
Kaafi pasand hai mujhe
Har baat kitni gaur se sunta hai tu meri,
Sochti hoon, badle mein aisa kya doon tujhe?

Kuch aisa...
Ki tujhe dekhkar samundar bhi pighal jaaye,
Kuch aisa...
Ki chaand apni roshni mein kho jaaye,
Kuch aisa...
Ki taare bhi apni chamak bhool jaayein,
Kuch aisa...
Ki raaste apni manzil kho dein,
Kuch aisa...
Ki raat kabhi khatam hone ka naam na le.

Par kya karoon,
Jitna mere liye tu khaas hai,
Utna khaas toh kabhi kuch mila hi nahi mujhe...

Rise Again

Tak oor grund from beneath oor hurdies 

Burn oor birches aside the lough, 

Besmirch hard fecht fur freedom, 

Dictating oor days tae come, 

No from the pint o a gun, 

Fae laws an promises  broken. 

Lees an lees spout forth like watter 

Lives expended as if they dinnae matter, 

Feel the Jacobite spirit again, 

Ready tae fecht like scotsmen again, 

Like warrior poets risen from the glen, 

Fae the mists o the past remember, 

Oor freedom wis wun sending Edward hame, 

Yon wis the past a new war begun noo, 

No wi claymores ,targes an guns, 

This time its ideals an Eton buffers, 

Those who wid sell oor birthrights 

Tae mak us slaves an servile peasants, 

Using stealth ,treachery an unco ither weys 

Rogues they be crooks ,cheats and thieves 

Seeming beyond reproach wi things hidden  

Frae us puir mortals aye they wull dae us doon, 

Sic a time as this tae fecht fur whit is oors 

Naw mair begging fur aa few scraps  

Fae a table fu wi guid things , 

Scraps urny fur us we ur free loons 

Burthit free an deeing we wull be free, 

Ur ye ready tae rise yince agin? 

 

Andrew P mcintyre 14/09/2020

Sunset On the Spey

Watching the ripples of the clear water of the Spey
Setting sun lighting field and trees of the strath
Salmon jumping clear to catch a fly
A sob as water runs from my eye.

Doon tae the firth o moray runs the water
Taking my thochts and dreams far away
Ne,er again tae be born a new
Loast forever in the melee o life

On on fast running Spey taking all hopes and despair
Wi me sleeping and floating in yer watter clear
Oan ma back spotting a hawk hover in azure sky
Lids closing tight  oan ma blearie eye.

Music o the water soothing

Glesca Weans

Grouin up in Glesga wis nae mean feat
Pleyin in the back courts an dreepin the wass
Plouterin in puddles manky water sploshing aboot,
Searching in yon mucky middens fur treasure
Thrown oot by the families in the closes.
Fur a fitba a pile o rags weideh doon wi aw sorts o things
Or a tanner ba made tae test yer skills dribbling roon
Bricks, holes an buckets burnt through.
Some wi nae shin baries wis the thing 
An naething caught except wee beasties in the hair.
Holy jumpers an maukit breeks like a uniform 
Worn tae mark ye oot as livin in tenements raw.
Aye aww wis puir always skint fur buying scran
Except faither oan a Friday nicht at the boozers 
Getting fu wi his pals forgettin the weans,
Crying at hame an when he came in mither 
Wid aways get the blame .
Aye the weans o glesga wur a hardy breed,
All ways stervin an needin a feed,
That wisnae allus therr a feast wis a jeely piece.
When they grew an produced men o valour,
Or men o wealth an fauncy cars,
Ne,er forgot that they were a Glesga wean.

Upon Your Shore

Ma boatie sailed ower the mist covered sea,
I searched an sought for your hidden shore,
Shrouded in mist frae ma searching eye.
You left in a red mist o yer makin,
Stormin aff afore ah could stoap yer flight,
Heid strang defiant an unco deaf tae protestations,
Awa back tae yer hame doon by the wild sea,
Broodin an frettin yer wrath ready tae explode,
Watchin the mist conseal yer shore.
Selkies an sirens kept silent at nicht,
Feart o yer mad writhings an screams,
Even the Coileach hid hersell away ,
In daurk caves inside o hills and bogs.
They were loast in the wids,
Whaur only fae Ghillie could see them oot.
Doon rushing burns kelpies would scream,
Rending the nicht to quiver an moan,
Whaur travellers wid shiver in tavern rooms.
Ah heard the moans an gripes in the mist
As at last ah fund yer shore wi smooth saun,
Whaur ah beeched  ma little boatie,
Unner the licht o a bricht shining moon.
Upon yer shore ah staun an cast a look
Ower the saun toward yer hame,
An wunner if ah was tae blame.
Yer loast tae me forever in time,
Ne,er again will ah call ye mine.

Andrew mcintyre.   28/12/2020.

Doon the Watter

I came back home to see the land,
To search for spirit, see the Clan.
Some Clan came by, some Clan we searched.
Had many a night, some mornings cursed.
 
The land rolls on through glen and Loch, through my heart, taking stock.
Saw many a sight, some mutton too,
The hills white dotted, amongst the heather,
Some sun, some cloud, some Scotch mist weather.
 
All in all, a lifetime trip.
Memories ponder of Galloway's and coo’s
Of horse's tails, and castle ruins.
And time spent well with loved ones too.
 
And back I came to the land I live.
Three thousand miles from where I was born.
My life is here with the ones that matter,
But my heart does long for “Doon the Watter”.

Tight Wad

TIGHT WAD
Yer cannie, as cannie be.
Nae sloutch, or frivolous, spend-thrift, ye.
Whose coin, to feered to leave the purse,
-in-case it’s ye’sd tae quench the thirst.
O, the ither, who just stood ye one.
Now sitting empty as a drouthy burn,
as he waits on you to stand your turn.
He taps his glass, he looks at you,
A bead of sweat runs doon your broo.
There’s nae way oot o this one noo.
Ye steady yer-sel, ye are resigned.
Then an idea springs tae mind.
You dig deep, you rummage roond.
The ither hopes its coin you’ve foond.
But you pull oot your watch instead,
his face is thunder yours turns red.
But not of shame, but by reprieve, 
for the  precious coin that’s now been 
saved--to see the light of a-nither day, 
as you prepare to go your way.
Jings is that the time, you will exclaim.
It’s time that you were getting hame.
And as you leave to go on your way,
I’ll catch you next time you will say,
As you pat you’re purse, well hidden away,
Your coinage safe for a-nither day. 


A poem by john scott

Growing Up In Govan As a Wain

Growing up in govan as a wain
We didny have much in they days 
But we'd wid never complain .
We were happy way wat Yeh geed
Nae body gret or yed get a slap on the heid.
Aw the games we aw used to play 
Up n doon the street
We're aw the maws wid gather up n meet.
Gossiping gossip aw day long 
N still be gabbing till the next morn.
Wed make wee dens down in the ally 
Tin cans on out feet so we'd walk silly.
Play kick the can n one man hunt
And brittish bulldog doon the front.
Our kids now dont no how to play 
Way too many computers n their 
Hitec ways .

Ang Aguhon Ng Daang Tama

A-ng aguhon ng daang tama
N-a mahalaga upang di maligaw; 
G-awin ang pagtahak doon, lahat sila, ako man, at ikaw.

A-ng aguhon ng daang tama, 
G-amit na totoong kailangan; 
U-tos ng Diyos ang katulad, 
H-alina't sundin tungo sa kaligtasan.
O-ras na upang alamin, dakong itinuturo ng aguhon; 
N-aroon ang gantimpala, pagdating ng akmang panahon.

N-ais ihayag ng aguhon, ang tunay at matuwid na landas; 
G-anap na pagtalima sa Diyos, hanggang sa araw ng wakas.

D-ireksyong senyas ng aguhon
A-y hindi maitatanggi; 
A-raw man maglakbay, 
N-ariyan ang gabay kahit sa
G-abi.

T-aluntunin at ingatan
A-ng mga aral sa Biblia; 
M-ahalin at panghawakan
A-ng aguhon ng daang tama.

It's Burns Nicht 25th January

Jean, Jean wis young an' alive till Ah gied her tatties and neeps;
Noo she's bein' seek as a dug, it fairly gies me the creeps.

Bonnie Mary O' Argyle took a trip tae the Brig O' Doon,
She took a dook oaf the parapet, ended up nearly bein' drooned!

Wee sleakit, cooerin', timorous beastie, ye must think it a sin!
Aw the lassies a' ever kent, wanted tae stab me wi' a pin.

Blythe Hae a' Been on Yon Hill, where a Tippling Ballad ah Wrote;
Gude Ale Keeps the Heart Aboon, when ye drink an awfy lote.

Ootcast Kirk

Aye and ’tis a bonnie glen

And for us the Laird’s enclave

Dinna fush the soldiers’ menace

‘Tis this moment that He gave.

And we gaither ‘neath the stars

And we tak the wine and bread

And we cleave with benediction

To each Word arr Saviour said.

This is Church

Mind not the dampness

And the laing hike to and fro’

For the Pastor of our choosin’

Meets us here, and helps us grow.

Though he lives just like an ootcast

With a price upon his head

He can still preach Heaven doon t’us

And we treasure all he said.

Sure ’tis hard times we endure

For the One King of our Kirk

Jesus, here, atop this hillside

And His glorious finished work.

And a lark flits kindly by us

And a sheep bleats out content

And we learn through sterling sufferin’

What the hunted Psalmist meant.

Hebrews 11: 38

(well spoken of the Scottish Covenanters of the mid 1600's)

Tight Wad

yer cannie as cannie be
Na'e sloutch or frivolous spend-thrift ye
Who's coins to feered to leave the purse
In-case it's ye'sd tae quench the thirst
O' the ither who's just stood ye one
now sitting empty as a drouthy burn,
as he waits on you ta'e stand yer turn.

He taps his glass-he looks at you,
a bead o' sweat runs doon yer broo.
There's na'e way oot o' this one noo.
So yo steady yersel, ye are resigned
to pay the ither back in-kind.
But then an idea springs ta'e mind.

Ye dig deep, you rummage roon'd
the ither hopes its coin ye'v  foon'd.
But you pull oot yer watch instead-
his face is thunder, your's turns red,
but not of shame- but by reprieve
for the preciose coin that's jist been saved.

Jings!  is that the time you will exclaim
it's high time you were getting hame.
And as you prepare to go your way.
i'll catch you next time you will say,
and pat the purse that's hidden away
your coinage saved for an-ither day
a poem by john-jock-scott

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