scotslanguage

21d

“I’ll nae longer tolerate this climate of wholesale copulation, it’s costin me a fortune! And I’m tellin yow I’ll no huv ye footerin wi ma chauffeur, cos the place is gone tae hell and there’s a leemit tae ma forebearance!”

—from “Mr Puntila & his Man Matti” (1999) by Peter Arnott, translated from Bertolt Brecht
Published in SERVING TWA MAISTERS: Five Classic Plays in Scots Translation

https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/volumes/serving_twa_maisters/

#Scottish #literature #Scots #Scotslanguage #Scotstober #drama #theatre #translation

PUNTILA (Yells) Get them oot! (To EVA) I’m absent fer hauf an hour and the hale place gangs tae buggery. Aye, weel dae yow ken how come the cuddies are in ma claver? Cos the stableman’s shaggin the gairden quean, that’s how come. And how’s thon fourteen-month hutheron got baggit afore her time? Cos the lassie’s joab it is tae mind ma cattle is mixin her moggans wi the prentice boy, which disnae gie her leesure tae ensure ma prize bull isnae lowpin oan ma hiefers and committin random fornication wi onythin oan four legs, that’s how. Mind me tae huv a word wi the wee gairden quean, gin she’d kindly abstain from lowsin her scanties for five minutes, mebbe we’ll huv some tomatoes this year. There’s money in tomatoes, and I’ll nae longer tolerate this climate of wholesale copulation, it’s costin me a fortune! And I’m tellin yow I’ll no huv ye footerin wi ma chauffeur, cos the place is gone tae hell and there’s a leemit tae ma forebearance!

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17d

Love is all you need: Remembering The Kingis Quair

Alan Riach discusses The Kingis Quair – a poem attributed to King James I of Scots (1394–1437), & described by C.S. Lewis as “the first modern book of love”

https://www.thenational.scot/news/17372009.love-is-all-you-need-remembering-the-kings-quair/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #lovepoetry #medieval #Scots #Scotslanguage #15thcentury #Scotstober

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16d

Noo Maunsie’s wis as guid a tongue
As ever psalm o’ Dauvid sung.
It fittit weel a godly mooth,
And said few wirds ’at wirna truth,
An’ never swöre by Guid or Deil
Excep’ whan kyunnens ate his kail…

—from “Auld Maunsie’s Crü” by B.R. Anderson (1861–1888), in Broken Lights: Poems & Reminiscences of the Late Basil Ramsay Anderson (1888) – republished in 2021 by Northus Shetland Classics

https://www.michaelwalmer.com/northus-shetland-classics/p/broken-lights-poems-and-reminiscences-of-basil-ramsay-anderson-introduced-by-robert-alan-jamieson

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

Noo Maunsie’s wis as guid a tongue
As ever psalm o’ Dauvid sung.
It fittit weel a godly mooth,
And said few wirds ’at wirna truth,
An’ never swöre by Guid or Deil
Excep’ whan kyunnens ate his kail.

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16d

Aifter the boombers cleck
and the sodgers traik thro the skau
there’s an auld air sterts up –
bubblin and greetin.

It’s a ballant mithers sing
on their hunkers i the stour
for a bairn deid.

They ken it by hert.

—Alastair Mackie, “Pietà”
published in The Golden Treasury of Scottish Verse, @canongatebooks, 2021

#Scottish #literature #Scots #Scotslanguage #poem #poetry #warpoem #warpoetry

Pietà
Alastair Mackie

Her face was thrawed.
She wisna aa come.

In the trams o her airms
the wummin held oot her first bairn.
It micht hae been a mercat day
and him for sale.
Naebody stoppit tae niffer.

His life bluid cled his breast
wi a new reid semmit.
He’d hippens for deid claes.

Aifter the boombers cleck
and the sodgers traik thro the skau
there’s an auld air sterts up –
bubblin and greetin.

It’s a ballant mithers sing
on their hunkers i the stour
for a bairn deid.

They ken it by hert.

It’s the cauldest grue i the universe
yon skelloch.
It niver waukens the deid.

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15d

The reason, gin ye waant the truth,
I sleep like this – ma gairdie stieve
upon yer breist, its steekit nieve
laid on yer sma’ hert like an aith –

is no’ for waarmth or peace o’ mind
but that in ma dreams, ma dou,
I’m staunin here upricht, wi’ you
the lang sheld that I grue ahind.

—Don Paterson, “The Human Sheld”
published in RAIN (Faber 2010)

https://www.faber.co.uk/product/9780571251742-rain/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scotslanguage #Scots #Scotstober

The Human Sheld
by Don Paterson

The reason, gin ye waant the truth,
I sleep like this – ma gairdie stieve
upon yer breist, its steekit nieve
laid on yer sma’ hert like an aith –

is no’ for waarmth or peace o’ mind
but that in ma dreams, ma dou,
I’m staunin here upricht, wi’ you
the lang sheld that I grue ahind.

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15d

Pathways to Research for Scots in Education
28 Oct, free online

A series of short presentations from current educators, sharing personal insights into teaching the Scots language & rethinking the role of the teacher. Following the talks, take part in an interactive Q&A session & help shape the future of Scots-focused educational research, exploring potential directions & opportunities

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/frlsu-webinar-pathways-to-research-for-scots-in-education-tickets-1764632787169

#Scottish #teachers #education #Scotslanguage #Scots #minoritylanguages

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14d

Daith an’ dule will stab ye surely,
Be ye man or wife,
Mony trauchles an’ mischances
In ilk weird are rife;
Bide the storm ye canna hinder,
Mindin’ through the strife,
Hoo the luntin’ lowe o’ beauty
Lichts the grey o’ life.

—Helen Cruickshank, “Sea Buckthorn”
published in A KIST O SKINKLAN THINGS (ASL, 2017)

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

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

Sea Buckthorn
by Helen Cruickshank

Saut an’ cruel winds tae shear it,
Nichts o’ haar an’ rain –
Ye micht think the sallow buckthorn
Ne’er a hairst could hain;
But amang the sea-bleached branches
Ashen-grey as pain,
Thornset orange berries cluster
Flamin’, beauty-fain.

Daith an’ dule will stab ye surely,
Be ye man or wife,
Mony trauchles an’ mischances
In ilk weird are rife;
Bide the storm ye canna hinder,
Mindin’ through the strife,
Hoo the luntin’ lowe o’ beauty
Lichts the grey o’ life.

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14d

CFP: 18th International Conference on Medieval & Renaissance Scottish Language, Literature, & Culture
1–4 July, University of Bristol, UK

Proposals for papers invited that discuss any aspects of medieval & renaissance Scottish language, literature, & culture, & papers that reflect on these fields from different time periods, languages, & places

@litstudies

Deadline: 14 Nov 2025

https://icmrsllc2026.blogs.bristol.ac.uk/call-for-papers/

#Scottish #literature #language #Scotslanguage #Gaeilc #Gaidhlig #medieval #renaissance

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14d

And by the halie tree
In the leaman licht o the wuid,
Squired by a houlet, a hawk and a doo,
Wes his Euridikee…

—“Orpheus”, by Tom Scott (1918–1995)
from A KIST O SKINKLAN THINGS

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

#Scottish #literature #Scotstober #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage

Tom Scott
Orpheus

Ye think thon wes the end?
Yon meetin in the wuids
When Thracian Orpheus heard the drum, the cries,
The whud o the bacchantes’ thrangan feet
And, seik in saul,
Mad to be jyned for aye to his Eurydikee,
Strung his harp
And gaed to meet them wi a sang.
Ye think thon wes the end?

Na. Eftir the thrang breeled on, red
Fingert, bluidie-mawed, the riven limbs
Quiveran aye amang the mairtyred gress,
There wes a lull
And throu it syne a roun
And syne as muckle’s a moan
And syne a voice,
Yon voice o his
That quietit the forest and its fowk,
That reconcilit lion and lamb,
Ordert the rain,
Spoke frae the grund
And threept in the greitan tree
‘Euridikee! Euridikee!’

And at the name
A ferlie thing wes duin.
Thir broken bits o bodie, bits o bane,
Brisket, gash, airm and droukit hair
Cam thegither as gin some will
Mair nor the merely real
Had wrocht on them.
And on yon slauchtert grund was formed
Orpheus anew,
Orpheus the singer, Orpheus the makar,
Orpheus cleansed o the auld despair.
And by the halie tree
In the leaman licht o the wuid,
Squired by a houlet, a hawk and a doo,
Wes his Euridikee.

They say he made a new sang,
A nobler nor the auld,
And sings it aye in the great haa o the warld.

They say it will nevir end.

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4d

Du gies hooseroom tae a swap o scarfs,
lodgins ta mallies. A shjalder swanks
apo dy shooder…

—Christine De Luca, “Growin Auld (Wasterwick)”
published in WAST WI DA VALKYRIES (Shetland Library, 1997)

https://www.christinedeluca.co.uk/pages/wast_wi_da_valkyries

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

Christine De Luca
Growin Auld

Wasterwick

Wasterwick, auld wife o da sea, worn
tae a beauty only age can bring. Du sits
straight-backed, airms reck oot
bi clett an stack. Dy sang is
da sang o sels an a thoosand shiftin shalls
is dey beach demsels. Da Waarie Gyo
is a secret fowld i dy skurt, whaar
a kittle o tang swills to an fro.

Du gies hooseroom tae a swap o scarfs,
lodgins ta mallies. A shjalder swanks
apo dy shooder, nest safe in a reffel
o trefoil an smora. Banks-flooers
mak a wavy aedge ta dy simmer hap.

We look on dee at’s cradled grown men,
trace lines o kennin on dy wise repose.
Da wasterin sun at faas saaftly lays
a wild rose apo dy granite face.

Vocabulary:
da: the
clett: cliff, rock, crag
stack: column of rock in the sea
dy: your (familiar)
shalls: shells
dey: they
demsels: themselves
gyo: steep, narrow inlet
fowld: fold
i: in
skurt: bosom
kittle: tickle
tang: seaweed
du: you (familiar)
gies: gives
tae, ta: to
swap: a sudden beat or blow
scarfs: shags
mallies: fulmars
shjalder
oyster catcher
apo: on
shooder: shoulder
reffel: tangle
smora: clover
banks flooers: sea pinks
aedge: edge
hap: shawl
dee: you (familiar)
at’s: who has
kennin: knowing
faas: falls
saaftly: softly

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12d

A man walked out of the sea one February morning dressed in a boilersuit & bunnet, and wearing a tartan scarf which had been tucked crosswise under each oxter to be fastened by a safety-pin at a point roughly centre of his shoulder blades…

—James Kelman, “Incident on a Windswept Beach”

Published in THE STORY OF THE STONE: Tales, Entreaties, and Incantations (PM Press, 2025)

https://pmpress.org/index.php?l=product_detail&p=1769

#Scottish #literature #JamesKelman #Flashfiction #Scots #Scotslanguage #Scotstober

James Kelman
Incident on a Windswept Beach

A man walked out of the sea one February morning dressed in a boilersuit & bunnet, and wearing a tartan scarf which had been tucked crosswise under each oxter to be fastened by a safety-pin at a point roughly centre of his shoulder blades; from his neck swung a pair of heavy boots whose laces were knotted together. He brought what must have been a waterproof tobacco-pouch out from a pocket, because when he had rolled a smoke he lighted the thing using a kind of Zippo (also from the pouch) and puffed upon it with an obvious relish. It was an astonishing spectacle.
Hastening over to him I exclaimed: Christ Almighty jimmy, where've you come from?
Back there, he muttered oddly and made to proceed on his path.
At least let me give you a pair of socks! I said.
But he shook his head. No ... I'm not supposed to.

Edited 12d ago

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2h

🚀Launch
A CHAOS OF LIGHT: New Writing Scotland 43
28 Oct, The Book Nook, Stirling
Pay as you please (suggested £3)

Celebrate this year’s amazing edition of NEW WRITING SCOTLAND & hear a selection of featured authors reading from their work, in English, Gaelic & Scots. All welcome!

https://thebooknookstirling.co.uk/tickets/New-Writing-Scotland-Anthology-Launch-p566956822/

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

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1d

WRITERS!

Submissions are invited to NEW WRITING SCOTLAND 44! We want poetry & prose in English, Gaelic, & Scots from writers who are Scottish by residence, birth, or inclination. All successful contributors are paid – deadline 31 Oct!

@writingcommunity

Submit free via Submittable 👇

https://nws.submittable.com/submit

#Scottish #literature #writing #WritingCommunity #IAmWriting #poetry #shortfiction #shortstories #Scots #Scotslanguage #Gaelic #Gaidhlig

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1y

A birthday 🧵 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

#Scottish #literature #Scotslanguage #19thCentury #20thcentury #WomenWriters
1/7
https://www.scottishwomenwritersontheweb.net/writers-a-to-z/violet-jacob

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132d

James Clerk Maxwell (1831–1879) was born #OTD, 13 June. As a physicist, he ranks alongside Newton & Einstein (“He achieved greatness unequalled”—Max Planck; “I stand on the shoulders of Maxwell”—Albert Einstein).

Maxwell also wrote poetry: “Rigid Body Sings” is based on “Comin’ Through the Rye” by Robert Burns

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45774/in-memory-of-edward-wilson-who-repented-of-what-was-in-his-mind-to-write-after-section

#Scottish #literature #poetry #19thcentury #Victorian #Scots #Scotslanguage #Physics #science #physicist

In Memory of Edward Wilson, Who Repented of what was in his Mind to Write after Section
BY JAMES CLERK MAXWELL

Rigid Body (sings).

Gin a body meet a body
Flyin’ through the air,
Gin a body hit a body,
Will it fly? and where?
Ilka impact has its measure,
Ne’er a ane hae I,
Yet a’ the lads they measure me,
Or, at least, they try.

Gin a body meet a body
Altogether free,
How they travel afterwards
We do not always see.
Ilka problem has its method
By analytics high;
For me, I ken na ane o’ them,
But what the waur am I?

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143d

Whether the weather be dreich or fair, my luve,
if guid times greet us, or we hae tae face the worst,
ahint and afore whit will happen tae us:
blind in the present, eyes open to the furore…

—Jackie Kay, “A Lang Promise”
published in BANTAM (Picador, 2017)

A poem for Pride Month 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/jackie-kay/bantam/9781509887927

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #love #lovepoem #Pride #PrideMonth #JackieKay

A Lang Promise
Jackie Kay

Whether the weather be dreich or fair, my luve,
if guid times greet us, or we hae tae face the worst,
ahint and afore whit will happen tae us:
blind in the present, eyes open to the furore,
unkempt or perjink, suddenly puir or poorly,
peely-wally or in fine fettle, beld or frosty,
calm as a ghoul or in a feery-farry,
in dork December or in springy spring weather,
doon by the Barrows, on the Champs-Elysees,
at midnicht, first licht, whether the mune
be roond or crescent, and yer o’ soond mind
or absent, I’ll tak your trusty haun
and lead you over the haw – hame, ma darlin.
I’ll carry ma lantern, and daur defend ye agin ony foe;
and whilst there is breath in me, I’ll blaw it intae ye.
Fir ye are ma true luve, the bonnie face I see;
nichts I fall intae slumber, it’s ye swimming up
in all yer guidness and blitheness, yer passion.
You’ll be mine, noo, an’ till the end o’ time,
ma bonnie lassie, I’ll tak the full guid o’ ye’
and gie it back, and gie it back tae ye:
a furst kiss, a lang promise, time’s gowden ring.

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140d

Twa Cats anes on a Cheese did light,
To which baith had an equal Right,
But Disputes, sic as aft arise,
Fell out at sharing of the Prize…

“The twa Cats & the Cheese”, by Allan Ramsay (1686–1758)
😾😾🧀🐵

Today, 4 June, is National Cheese Day!

https://digital.nls.uk/special-collections-of-printed-music/archive/105690319

#Scottish #literature #Scots #Scotslanguage #poem #poetry #18thCentury #cats #cheese #NationalCheeseDay

The Twa Cats and the Cheese
Fable IX
by Allan Ramsay

Twa Cats anes on a Cheese did light,
To which baith had an equal Right,
But Disputes, sic as aft arise,
Fell out at sharing of the Prize;
Fair Play said ane, Ye bite o’er thick
Thae Teeth of yours gang wonder quick:
Let’s part it, else lang or the Moon
Be chang’d, the Kebuck will be done.

But wha’s to do’t,—They’re Parties baith,
And ane may do the other Skaith,
Sae with Consent away they trudge,
And laid the Cheese before a Judge,
A Monkey with a campsho Face,
Clerk to a Justice of the Peace,
A Judge he seem’d in Justice skill’d,
When he his Master’s Chair fill’d;
Now Umpire chosen for Division,
Baith sware to stand by his Decision.
Demure he looks.—The Cheese he pales,—
He prives it good,—Ca’s for the Scales,
His Knife whops throw’t,—In twa it fell,
He puts ilk Haff in either Shell;
Said he, We’ll truly weigh the Case,
And strickest Justice shall have Place,
Then lifting up the Scales, he fand
The tane bang up, the ither stand;
Syne out he took the heaviest Haff,
And ate a Knoost o’t quickly aff,
And try’d it syne,—It now prov’d light,
Friend Cats, said he, We’ll do ye right.
Then to the ither Haff he fell,
And laid till’t teughly Tooth and Nail,
Till weigh’d again it lightest prov’d:
The Judge wha this sweet Process lov’d,
Still weigh’d the Case, and still ate on,
Till Clients baith were weary grown,

And tenting how the Matter went,
Cry’d, Come, come Sir, We’re baith content.
Ye Fools, quoth he, and Justice too
Maun be content as well as you.
Thus grumbled they, thus he went on,
Till baith the Haves were near hand done;
Poor Pousies now the Daffine saw
Of gawn for Nignyes to the Law:
And bill’d the Judge that he wad please
To give them the remaining Cheese:
To which his Worship grave reply’d,
The Dues of Court maun first be paid.
Now Justice pleas’d,—What’s to the Fore
Will but right scrimply clear your Score;
That’s our Decreet,—Gae Hame and Sleep,
And thank us ye’re win aff sae cheap.

Edited 140d ago

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153d

Hamish Henderson, Burns & Music
21 June, Dundee Central Library – free

Prof Fred Freeman of the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland talks about two great songsters & poets, Hamish Henderson & Robert Burns – both of whom redefined Scottish culture & provided a national & international vision of the country

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/hamish-henderson-burns-and-music-tickets-1374121928679

#Scottish #literature #poetry #song #HamishHenderson #RobertBurns #Scots #Scotslanguage #culture #identity #Dundee

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140d

Gaelic & Scots: Cultural Connections & Inspirations in the 20th Century

Talks form the FRLSU’s May 6 webinar are now online, looking at

▶️ George Campbell Hay | Deòrsa Mac Iain Dheòrsa
▶️ William Neill | Uilleam Nèill
▶️ Douglas Young
▶️ translations between Gaelic & Scots
▶️ Derick Thomson | Ruaraidh MacThòmais & GAIRM

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLvLWE-AoQoGZ7NF6Vt2oYlKn74u0_TKsW

#Scottish #literature #Gaelic #Gaidhlig #Scots #Scotslanguage #translation #minoritylanguages #20thcentury

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139d

“The Sodgers”, by Alexander Scott (1920–1989)

Alexander Scott landed in Normandy with the Gordon Highlanders, & saw action in the Ardennes & crossing the Rhine. He later became Head of Scottish Literature at the University of Glasgow, & was president of ASL from 1976–79

Published in FROM THE LINE: Scottish War Poetry 1914–1945, ed. David Goldie & Roderick Watson

https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/volumes/from_the_line/

#Scottish #literature #Scots #ScotsLanguage #poem #poetry #DDay #WW2 #WarPoetry

The Sodgers
by Alexander Scott

Nae wi the gallus captains
That niver jinkit war
But socht for glory's wildfire lowe
As wise men aince for anither star—

And nae wi the ramstam colonels
That leuch at the din o the drum
And skirled for the bleeze o battle's Inferno
As saunts micht skirl for Kingdom Come—

But aye wi the sweirt sodgers
That niver wished tae dee
And anelie marched the forrart road
Sen onie back they cudna see—

Near blind wi the reek o wappins
And the reek o leean words,
But niver near sae blind wi bluid
As faa in luve wi guns and swords.

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138d

Ye think thon wes the end?
Yon meetin in the wuids
When Thracian Orpheus heard the drum, the cries,
The whud o the bacchantes’ thrangan feet…

—“Orpheus”, by Tom Scott (1918–1995), born #OTD, 6 June
Published in A KIST O SKINKLAN THINGS

1/3

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

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #20thcentury #Mythology #GreekMythology

Tom Scott
Orpheus

Ye think thon wes the end?
Yon meetin in the wuids
When Thracian Orpheus heard the drum, the cries,
The whud o the bacchantes’ thrangan feet
And, seik in saul,
Mad to be jyned for aye to his Eurydikee,
Strung his harp
And gaed to meet them wi a sang.
Ye think thon wes the end?

Na. Eftir the thrang breeled on, red
Fingert, bluidie-mawed, the riven limbs
Quiveran aye amang the mairtyred gress,
There wes a lull
And throu it syne a roun
And syne as muckle’s a moan
And syne a voice,
Yon voice o his
That quietit the forest and its fowk,
That reconcilit lion and lamb,
Ordert the rain,
Spoke frae the grund
And threept in the greitan tree
‘Euridikee! Euridikee!’

And at the name
A ferlie thing wes duin.
Thir broken bits o bodie, bits o bane,
Brisket, gash, airm and droukit hair
Cam thegither as gin some will
Mair nor the merely real
Had wrocht on them.
And on yon slauchtert grund was formed
Orpheus anew,
Orpheus the singer, Orpheus the makar,
Orpheus cleansed o the auld despair.
And by the halie tree
In the leaman licht o the wuid,
Squired by a houlet, a hawk and a doo,
Wes his Euridikee.

They say he made a new sang,
A nobler nor the auld,
And sings it aye in the great haa o the warld.

They say it will nevir end.

1 0 0 View Post & Replies See Original

76d

Twa Cats anes on a Cheese did light,
To which baith had an equal Right,
But Disputes, sic as aft arise,
Fell out at sharing of the Prize…

—Allan Ramsay (1686–1758), “The twa Cats & the Cheese”
via the National Library of Scotland
😾😾🧀🐵

An 18th-century Scots poem for International Cat Day

https://digital.nls.uk/special-collections-of-printed-music/archive/105690319

#Scottish #literature #Scots #Scotslanguage #poem #18thcentury #law #legal #humor #humour #InternationalCatDay

The twa Cats and the Cheese
Fable IX
by Allan Ramsay

Twa Cats anes on a Cheese did light,
To which baith had an equal Right,
But Disputes, sic as aft arise,
Fell out at sharing of the Prize;
Fair Play said ane, Ye bite o’er thick
Thae Teeth of yours gang wonder quick:
Let’s part it, else lang or the Moon
Be chang’d, the Kebuck will be done.

But wha’s to do’t,—They’re Parties baith,
And ane may do the other Skaith,
Sae with Consent away they trudge,
And laid the Cheese before a Judge,
A Monkey with a campsho Face,
Clerk to a Justice of the Peace,
A Judge he seem’d in Justice skill’d,
When he his Master’s Chair fill’d;
Now Umpire chosen for Division,
Baith sware to stand by his Decision.
Demure he looks.—The Cheese he pales,—
He prives it good,—Ca’s for the Scales,
His Knife whops throw’t,—In twa it fell,
He puts ilk Haff in either Shell;
Said he, We’ll truly weigh the Case,
And strickest Justice shall have Place,
Then lifting up the Scales, he fand
The tane bang up, the ither stand;
Syne out he took the heaviest Haff,
And ate a Knoost o’t quickly aff,
And try’d it syne,—It now prov’d light,
Friend Cats, said he, We’ll do ye right.
Then to the ither Haff he fell,
And laid till’t teughly Tooth and Nail,
Till weigh’d again it lightest prov’d:
The Judge wha this sweet Process lov’d,
Still weigh’d the Case, and still ate on,
Till Clients baith were weary grown,

And tenting how the Matter went,
Cry’d, Come, come Sir, We’re baith content.
Ye Fools, quoth he, and Justice too
Maun be content as well as you.
Thus grumbled they, thus he went on,
Till baith the Haves were near hand done;
Poor Pousies now the Daffine saw
Of gawn for Nignyes to the Law:
And bill’d the Judge that he wad please
To give them the remaining Cheese:
To which his Worship grave reply’d,
The Dues of Court maun first be paid.
Now Justice pleas’d,—What’s to the Fore
Will but right scrimply clear your Score;
That’s our Decreet,—Gae Hame and Sleep,
And thank us ye’re win aff sae cheap.

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131d

Goonie: Poetry Extravaganza with Michael Mullen & Friends
20 June, Lighthouse Books, Edinburgh. £0–£10.99

Exploring queerness through fierce lyrical poetry & celebrating Scotland through vernacular vignettes, GOONIE is Michael Mullen’s debut collection

https://lighthousebookshop.com/events/goonie-poetry-extravaganza-with-michael-mullen-and-friends

#Scottish #literature #poetry #queer #queerness #Scotland #Scots #Scotslanguage

A bumfled rug, dark blue, with a red, yellow, pink, white and green floral pattern. Text:

poetry launch
michael mullen
+ fellow Edwin Morgan Award Winners
friday 20th june
indie bookshop week
poetry extravaganza

Next to the text is a cover image for GOONIE, by Michael Mullen. Looking down at a carpet of the same design, we can see a pair of feet wearing black men's shoes and dark trousers, and a single foot wearing a silver slipper-style woman's shoe and a bright red stocking.

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125d

Frae the broo o’ a brae I saw them gang,
I saw them hirple to a lanesome shore.
I saw them pass abune the ferly seals
Withouten keel and sail and oar…

—William Jeffrey, “The Refugees”
Published in A KIST O SKINKLAN THINGS (ASL, 2017)

20 June is World Refugee Day

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

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #WorldRefugeeDay #refugees #humanrights

William Jeffrey
The Refugees

‘Arise and flee into Egypt’

‘There’s a carline walkin’ the road ootby,
A body wi’ hair o’ the streekit snaw,
And an auld man daunders at her side,
A chiel that’s laggie and bent in twa.’

‘They maun be folk frae a fremit toun.
Bid them come in and bide a wee.’
Sae the carline and the auld man came
And supp’d guid brose anent the swee.

I speer’d the taen, and I speer’d the tither,
And scant the answer did I get—
But O, the licht in their eldren e’en
Shone frae some gouden unkenned yett.

Quo’ the carline frail, ‘There’s hame nae mair
In kintras raxt on the crookit sword’;
But the bodach murmured, ‘Nay, there’s hame
Where folks are free wi’ the kindly word.

‘Natheless,’ quo’ she, ‘gang west, my son,
Westlins to isles o’ Bride and the sea.’
Syne they rose and quaitlike went frae the door
And steppit west by the flowery lea.

Frae the broo o’ a brae I saw them gang,
I saw them hirple to a lanesome shore.
I saw them pass abune the ferly seals
Withouten keel and sail and oar.

I saw them gang in a siller glore,
Walkin’ the sea in’ a calm sae still—
The braid eard faulded like a rose
And Bethlehem gloss’d an island hill.

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100d

I can see da rüfs aa taekit, an da hens aroond da door;
Fok kerryin twartree paets hame, an rigs delled every voar.
Aa da lums ir reekin, an I hear da happy soonds
O peerie bairns skirlin, as dey play dem ower da toons…

—“Da Clearance”, by Rhoda Bulter (1929–94), born #OTD, 15 July

A 🎂🧵 – 1/3

Listen to Rhoda Bulter reading “Da Clearance” here

https://www.shetlanddialect.org.uk/da-clearance

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

Da Clearance
Rhoda Bulter

I can see da rüfs aa taekit, an da hens aroond da door;
Fok kerryin twartree paets hame, an rigs delled every voar.
Aa da lums ir reekin, an I hear da happy soonds
O peerie bairns skirlin, as dey play dem ower da toons.

I see eens sittin roond da fire, an twartree mair oot by;
Sookin infants at da breest, an weemen gjaan ta cry.
Da tochtfil, tried faces o dem at’s lived ower lang;
Fractious bairns feytin sleep, an sensin somethin wrang.

I hear a lood, lood knockin, an da crump o monny feet;
Men's voices raised in anger, an da bairns start to greet.
I see da fok aa girded oot afore da laandloard’s men;
An aa da bits a things dey hed, fired ower da briggy-stane.

I see da bare waas staandin, an aa da laand lie green;
Lang syne da fire wis slokkit, an monny a year is geen.
Noo dey aa hae equal portions o aert ta tak dir sleep.
Tell me, wis it wirt it aa for twartree extry sheep?

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