Scots Poems - Poems about Scots

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...

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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...

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“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...

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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...

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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...

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Comin Thro the Rye by Robert Burns modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body, Jenny's seldom dry; She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Should a body meet a body Comin' through the rye, Should a body kiss...

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Thar was nae richt ae laddie sair wha heft a cave 'side Galloway, wi' nae jaiken he griftit dare as he was nae tae lippen tae. Ill-naitur'd fishwife he haud in wi', the twa 'greed tae gang the'gither. She haud her tryst, an' haud her wheesht, his ill-duin vext her wi' nae dither. Wi' dirk in hand at howe o' nicht in fu'...

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