Eggplant.place

62d

On the oneness of self and universe

IT’S AW WAN
TAE ME

—Alan Spence, GLASGOW ZEN
published by @canongatebooks 2012

https://canongate.co.uk/books/333-glasgow-zen/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Glasgow #Scots #Scotslanguage #Zen

Alan Spence
GLASGOW ZEN

On the oneness of self and universe

IT'S AW WAN
TAE ME

ALT

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48d

miscarriage

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30d

I’ll ha’e nae hauf-way hoose, but aye be whaur
Extremes meet – it’s the only way I ken
To dodge the curst conceit o’ bein’ richt
That damns the vast majority o’ men.

—from “A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle”

A 🎂🧵 for Hugh MacDiarmid—born #OTD, 11 Aug 1892

1/10

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/hugh-macdiarmid

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #modernism #20thcentury #MacDiarmid

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30d

Scotland 1926
25 Aug, Edinburgh Book Festival

Kirsty Gunn, Alan Riach, and James Robertson revisit the Scottish Renaissance through landmark works including Hugh MacDiarmid’s A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle, the early work of Neil M Gunn, & other under-sung voices including Willa Muir & Helen Cruickshank. Deep dive into a remarkable literary moment and the writers who helped reshape Scotland’s imaginative life.

https://www.edbookfest.co.uk/events/kirsty-gunn-alan-riach-and-james-robertson-scotland-1926

#Scottish #literature #20thcentury #Scots #Scotslanguage

Fiction (Adults)
Kirsty Gunn, Alan Riach, and James
Robertson: Scotland 1926
Tue 25 Aug 2026 | 12:15 - 13:15
• Courtyard Theatre
Accessibility
Captioned

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45d

🎉PUBLICATION DAY!🥳

NAMING THE SNAKES
New Writing Scotland 44
Edited by Chris Powici, Allan Radcliffe & Anna C. Frater

The best new short fiction & poetry from forty-three writers who are Scottish by birth, residence, or inclination. Available now from all good bookshops (& the evil one too, if you must)!

https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/newwriting/nws44/

#Scottish #literature #shortfiction #poetry #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #Scots #Scotslanguage #writingcommunity

Book cover:

Naming
the
Snakes

New
Writing
Scotland
44

Edited by Chris Powici and Allan Radcliffe
Gaelic Editor: Anna C. Frater

The cover image shows a mix of overlapping yellow, orange, and purple fabrics, semi-transparent, on top of a drawing of a hand holding a disc which rests on top of a pillar. The head of a snake coils up from below to rest on the disc.

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45d

Hit wis da swans, dat’s whit it wis.
Dat’s whit set da day apairt.

Twa cygnets, happit in emsket,
a midder, a faider. A peerie geo

aa ta wirsels, whaar waves yockit
sands saftly, maas cried oot abun,

an da sun drappit waarmest hugs
apö wir shooders…

—Maxine Rose Munro, “A fine day”
published in NEW SHETLANDER #295, 2021

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/a-fine-day/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #Shetlandic #Shetland

A fine day
Maxine Rose Munro

Hit wis da swans, dat’s whit it wis.
Dat’s whit set da day apairt.

Twa cygnets, happit in emsket,
a midder, a faider. A peerie geo

aa ta wirsels, whaar waves yockit
sands saftly, maas cried oot abun,

an da sun drappit waarmest hugs
apö wir shooders, glinkin atween

white cloods o oo. Bit da swans,
no buddered be dat, skoited at wis tochtfully,

saw a faider, a midder, twa bairns,
an lat wis in. As wir bairns played

da cygnets circled, curious, comin closs,
closser, skeetin awaa, owre shy efter aa,

ta hoid anunder midder’s wing. Wir bairns
wis much da sam, unsure o da uncan.

Lookin up fae wipin sand fae a peerie
een’s face, I lockit een wi midder swan

an richt den I kent shö wis seein hersel.
An richt den I kent I saw mesel tö.

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29d

Upon his guilded chariot led by hours,
With radiant glories darting throw the air,
The sun, high sprung in his diurnal course,
Shed down a day serenely sweet and fair…

—Allan Ramsay (1684–1758), “The Eclipse”

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #eclipse #astronomy #18thcentury #Scots #Scotslanguage

The Eclipse
Allan Ramsay

Upon his guilded chariot led by hours,
With radiant glories darting throw the air,
The sun, high sprung in his diurnal course,
Shed down a day serenely sweet and fair.
The earth mair beautiful and fertile grew;
The flow’ry fields in rich array,
Smil’d lovely on the beamy day,
Delightful for the eye to view;
Ceres, with her golden hair,
Displaying treasure ilka where,
While useful plenty made her stalks to bow.

A thousand little suns glanc’d on the wave;
Nature appear’d to claim the sun’s respect,
All did sae blyth and beauteously behave.
“Ah!” cry’d the moon, “too much for him ye deck;
“My aking een cannot this glory bear;
“This sun pretends nane in the sky
“Can shine but him, then where am I?
“Soon I the contrary shall clear:
“By ae bauld strake,
“With him I’ll make
“My equal empire in the heaven appear.”

“’Tis me that gives a lustre to the night;
“Then should not I my proper right display,
“And now, even now dart down my silver light?
“I give enough, this sun gives too much day.”
The project fram’d, pale Cynthia now to shaw
Her shining power, right daftly run
Directly ’tween the earth and Sun.
Unwise design! the warld then saw,
Instead of light, the Moon
Brought darkness in at noon,
And without borrowing, had no light at a’.

Thus many empty and imprudent men,
Wha to their ain infirmities are blind,
Rax yont their reach, and this way let us ken
A jealous, weak and insufficient mind.

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43d

Rock an’ stane lay glisterin’ on aa the heichs abune.
Cool an’ kind an’ whisperin’ it drifted gently doon,
till hill an’ howe war rowed in it, an’ land an’ sea war gane.
Aa was still an’ saft an’ silent in the smoky smirr o rain.

—George Campbell Hay, “The Smoky Smirr o’ Rain”

A poem for World Rain Day 🌧️

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #rain #WorldRainDay

The Smoky Smirr o Rain
George Campbell Hay

A misty mornin’ doon the shore wi a hushed an’ caller air,
an’ ne’er a breath frae East or West tie sway the rashes there,
a sweet, sweet scent frae Laggan’s birks gaed breathin’ on its ane,
their branches hingin beaded in the smoky smirr o rain.

The hills aroond war silent wi the mist alang the braes.
The woods war derk an’ quiet wi dewy, glintin’ sprays.
The thrushes didna raise for me, as I gaed by alane,
but a wee, wae cheep at passin’ in the smoky smirr o rain.

Rock an’ stane lay glisterin’ on aa the heichs abune.
Cool an’ kind an’ whisperin’ it drifted gently doon,
till hill an’ howe war rowed in it, an’ land an’ sea war gane.
Aa was still an’ saft an’ silent in the smoky smirr o rain.

ALT

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43d

Martin O’Connor & Len Pennie on Scots Language

Martin O’Connor, the writer & star of Through the Shortbread Tin, sat down recently with poet & performer Len Pennie to blether all things Scots language

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RteTsoNWASE

#Scottish #literature #Scots #Scotslanguage

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25d

I send to you, commissioners,
A paper that may please ye, sirs
(For troth they say it might be worse‍‍
An’ I believe’t)…

—Robert Louis Stevenson, “To the Commissioners of Northern Lights”, which Stevenson sent to them along with his design for “a new form of intermittent light”

This weekend is International Lighthouse & Lightship Weekend

1/5

https://illw.net

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #ScotsLanguage #RobertLouisStevenson #19thcentury #Victorian #lighthouse #engineering

To the Commissioners of Northern Lights
Robert Louis Stevenson

I send to you, commissioners,
A paper that may please ye, sirs
(For troth they say it might be worse‍‍
An’ I believe’t)
And on your business lay my curse‍‍
Before I leav’t.

I thocht I’d serve wi’ you, sirs, yince,
But I’ve thocht better of it since;
The matter I will nowise mince,‍‍
But tell ye true:
I’ll service wi’ some ither prince,‍‍
An’ no wi’ you.

I’ve no been very deep, ye’ll think,
Cam’ delicately to the brink
An’ when the water gart me shrink‍‍
Straucht took the rue,
An’ didna stoop my fill to drink—‍‍
I own it true.

I kent on cape and isle, a light
Burnt fair an’ clearly ilka night;
But at the service I took fright,‍‍
As sune’s I saw,
An’ being still a neophite‍‍
Gaed straucht awa’.

Anither course I now begin,
The weeg I’Il cairry for my Sin,
The court my voice shall echo in,‍‍
An’—wha can tell?—
Some ither day I may be yin‍‍
O’ you mysel’.

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27d

Nae wind comes owre sae free
Upon the yirden rose
As hill-blawn winds that gae
Whaur the white bloom grows…

—William Soutar, “Summer Song”
published in WILLIAM SOUTAR: Collected Works (Tippermuir, 2024)

https://tippermuirbooks.co.uk/product/william-soutar-collected-works-vols-1-2/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #20thcentury #Scots #Scotslanguage #WilliamSoutar

Summer Song
by William Soutar

Nae wind comes owre sae free
Upon the yirden rose
As hill-blawn winds that gae
Whaur the white bloom grows.

There is nae biggit bower
Sae gledsome for the sicht
As the sma', wilder'd fleur
Flanterin' wi' licht.

And herts will tine their fear
Whan love sae freely blaws,
Open to joy and care
As the sma', white rose.

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40d

It was upon a Lammas night,
When corn rigs are bonie,
Beneath the moon’s unclouded light,
I held awa to Annie…

—Robert Burns, “Corn Rigs”
pages from Robert Burns: Selected Poems & Songs (OUP, 2013)

Today, 1 August, is Lammas Day

https://global.oup.com/academic/product/selected-poems-and-songs-9780199682324?cc=gb&lang=en&

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #song #18thcentury #folksong #RobertBurns #Lammas #LammasDay #romanticism #Scots #Scotslanguage

SONG
Tune-Corn Rigs are bonie

It was upon a Lammas night,
When corn rigs are bonie,
Beneath the moon's unclouded light,
I held awa to Annie:®
The time flew by, wi' tentless heed,
Till 'tween the late and early;
Wi' sma' persuasion she agreed,
To see me thro' the barley.

The sky was blue, the wind was still,
The moon was shining clearly;
I set her down, wi' right good will,
Amang the rigs o' barley:
I ken't her heart was a' my ain;
I lov'd her most sincerely;
I kiss'd her ore and owre again,
Amang the rigs o' barley.

I lock'd her in my fond embrace;
Her heart was beating rarely:
My blessings on that happy place,
Amang the rigs o' barley!
But by the moon and stars so bright,
That shone that hour so clearly!
She ay shall bless that happy night,
Amang the rigs o' barley.

ALT

I hae been blythe wi' Comrades dear;
I hae been merry drinking;
I hae been joyfu gath'rin gear;
I hae been happy thinking:
But a' the pleasures e'er I saw,
Tho' three times doubl'd fairly,
That happy night was worth them a',
Amang the rigs o' barley.

CHORUS
Corn rigs, an' barley rigs,
An' corn rigs are bonie:
I'll ne'er forget that happy night,
Amang the rigs wi' Annie.

ALT

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25d

The Laird o’ Cockpen, he’s proud an’ he’s great,
His mind is ta’en up wi’ the things o’ the State…

Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne (1766–1845) was born #OTD, 16 Aug. Oliphant wrote over 100 popular songs to traditional Scottish tunes. Although she shunned publicity & never acknowledged her authorship, along with Robert Burns she is one of the most significant figures in Scottish folksong

1/3

#Scottish #literature #song #folksong #18thcentury #19thcentury #womenwriters #Scots #Scotslanguage

Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne
“The Laird o’ Cockpen”

The Laird o’ Cockpen, he’s proud an’ he’s great,
His mind is ta’en up wi’ the things o’ the State;
He wanted a wife, his braw house to keep,
But favour wi’ wooin’ was fashious to seek.

Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell,
At his table head he thocht she’d look well,
M’Leish’s ae dochter o’ Clavers-ha’ Lea,
A penniless lass wi’ a lang pedigree.

His wig was weel pouther’d and as gude as new,
His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;
He put on a ring, a sword, and cock’d hat,
And wha could refuse the Laird wi’ a’ that?

He took the grey mare, and rade cannily,
And rapp’d at the yett o’ Clavers-ha’ Lea;
‘Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben, –
She’s wanted to speak to the Laird o’ Cockpen.’

Mistress Jean she was makin’ the elderflower wine;
‘An’ what brings the Laird at sic a like time?’
She put aff her apron, and on her silk goun,
Her mutch wi’ red ribbons, and gaed awa’ doun.

An’ when she cam’ ben, he bowed fu’ low,
An’ what was his errand he soon let her know;
Amazed was the Laird when the lady said ‘Na’,
And wi’ a laigh curtsie she turned awa’.

Dumfounder’d was he, nae sigh did he gie,
He mounted his mare – he rade cannily;
An’ aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen,
She’s daft to refuse the laird o’ Cockpen.

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23d

NAMING THE SNAKES: New Writing Scotland 44
Glasgow launch
8 September, Waterstones Sauchiehall St, Glasgow – £5 / £12 with book

Celebrate the latest issue of NEW WRITING SCOTLAND with a mix of readings of poetry, short fiction & non-fiction in English, Gaelic & Scots – all welcome!

https://www.waterstones.com/events/new-writing-scotland-44-launch/glasgow-sauchiehall-street

#Scottish #literature #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #Scots #Scotslanguage #poetry #shortfiction #newwriting #booklaunch #Glasgow

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14d

Call for Applications: Crossing Tongues Poetry Residency

Edinburgh UNESCO City of Literature invites a Scottish poet writing in English, Scots &/or Scottish Gaelic to undertake a 7-day residency in Nigeria, alongside the Hausa International Book & Arts Festival, December 2026

Applications open until 30 September

https://cityofliterature.com/opportunities/call-for-applications-crossing-tongues-poetry-residency/

#Scottish #literature #poetry #Nigeria #Scots #Scotslanguage #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #residency

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14d

NAMING THE SNAKES: New Writing Scotland 44
Glasgow launch
8 September, Waterstones Sauchiehall St, Glasgow – £5 / £12 with book

Celebrate the latest issue with a mix of readings of poetry, short fiction & non-fiction in English, Gaelic & Scots – all welcome!

https://www.waterstones.com/events/new-writing-scotland-44-launch/glasgow-sauchiehall-street

#Scottish #literature #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #Scots #Scotslanguage #poetry #shortfiction #shortstories #booklaunch #writingcommunity #Glasgow

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9d

A 🎂 🧵 for Violet Jacob (1863–1946) – poet, novelist, short story writer, & key figure in the 20th-century Scottish renaissance & Scots language revival – born #OTD, 1 September

1/8

https://www.scottishwomenwritersontheweb.net/writers-a-to-z/violet-jacob

#Scottish #literature #Scots #Scotslanguage #19thCentury #20thcentury #WomenWriters #VioletJacob

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4d

NAMING THE SNAKES: New Writing Scotland 44
Glasgow launch
8 September, Waterstones Sauchiehall St, Glasgow – £5 / £12 with book

Celebrate the latest issue with a mix of readings of poetry, short fiction & non-fiction in English, Gaelic & Scots – all welcome!

https://www.waterstones.com/events/new-writing-scotland-44-launch/glasgow-sauchiehall-street

#Scottish #literature #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #Scots #Scotslanguage #poetry #shortfiction #writingcommunity #Glasgow

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1d

The deid-hole’s a sma-boukit place for you.
You need tae be blawn aboot the cosmos
so’s your live matter mells wi the spaces
and you become the stour starns are made o…

—Alastair Mackie: In Memoriam Hugh MacDiarmid (1892–1978)

Christopher Murray Grieve – Hugh MacDiarmid – died #OTD, 9 September

https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/volumes/a-kist-o-skinlan-things/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #HughMacDiarmid #InMemoriam

In Memoriam Hugh MacDiarmid (1892–1978)
Alastair mackie

The deid-hole’s a sma-boukit place for you.
You need tae be blawn aboot the cosmos
so’s your live matter mells wi the spaces
and you become the stour starns are made o.

Sma spirit, ye couped yoursel oot like an ocean
and on it ye sailed tae your odyssey.
Your poems set their bows for the infinite.
It was a sma bit coble made o Scots.

Ahent the muckle brae-face o your brou
barmed the thochts. They were like boolders,
ram-stam, ramgunshoch, aften wilyart. Polyphemus
hurlin craigs at the galleys’ hotterin starns.

And aye the sky-line cockit its fore-finger.
For fifty years laneliness was your crony.
Your spaces were polar anes, the cauld burn
o your mind the aixle-tree that iled your world.

I think o Pascal’s infinite spaces
and Scotland a wee dot in the abyss.
You gied it a starn; the muckle hole skinkles
yet in the licht. Sic matter never dees.

The terror that I feel is for the muckle howe-hole
your last sleep leaves ahent. As if a mountain
that held up the lyft had sunk intae the mools
and suddenly the sky-line’s unfrienly.

And oor steps styter and Scotland’s again
‘the bonny broukit bairn’. Lie back in your kist
licht bearer. And may the giant back-birn
ye cairriet lie lichtly in the earth’s happin.

ALT

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11h

“Doon the Stair fae Ms Cruickshank” – the 2026 Scottish PEN Helen Cruickshank Memorial Lecture
20 September, Edinburgh – free

In this lecture from the Scottish PEN Writers for Peace Committee, Nada Shawa, author of 𝘐𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘭: 𝘎𝘢𝘻𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘦, will deliver a lecture celebrating the life, poetry & activism of Helen Cruickshank, & explore how the themes of her work resonate for writers today.

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/helen-cruickshank-lecture-2026-tickets-1999858019170

#Scottish #literature #ScottishPEN #Scots #Scotslanguage #HelenCruickshank

helen-cruickshank-lecture-2026-tickets-1999858019170

Edited 11h ago

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10h

NAMING THE SNAKES: New Writing Scotland 44
Edinburgh launch
15 September, Blackwell’s, South Bridge – £3 / £11 with book

Celebrate the latest issue with a mix of readings of poetry, short fiction & non-fiction in English, Gaelic & Scots – all welcome!

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/naming-the-snakes-new-writing-scotland-44-tickets-1995684361648

#Scottish #literature #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #Scots #Scotslanguage #poetry #shortfiction #shortstories #writing #writingcommunity #Edinburgh

naming-the-snakes-new-writing-scotland-44-tickets-1995684361648

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9h

A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle
19 November, National Library of Scotland, Edinburgh. Free, ticketed

Marking the centenary of Hugh MacDiarmid’s landmark poem, “A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle” – a 2685-line work in Scots that is colloquial, lyrical, & highly literary, blending tradition with modernism & exploring both national & international themes

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/a-drunk-man-looks-at-the-thistle-tickets-1999760348033

#Scottish #literature #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #MacDiarmid #HughMacDiarmid #modernism

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scots