Eggplant.place

98d

“Our Three-Voiced Country”: 20th-century cross-currents in Gaelic & other Scottish writing
26–28 June, Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, Skye

This conference will examine the shared influences & interconnections between Gaelic & other Scottish writing, from the Celtic Revival & the Scottish Renaissance to the beginnings of the new millennium

@litstudies

https://www.smo.uhi.ac.uk/co-labhairt-bhliadhnail-asl-2026/?lang=en

#Scottish #literature #conference #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #20thcentury #CelticStudies

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72d

Gur duilich leam mar tha mi
’S mo chridhe ’n sàs aig bròn
Bhon an uair a dh’fhàg mi
Beanntan ard a’ cheò
Gleanntannan a’ mhànrain
Nan loch, nam bàgh ‘s nan sròm
’S an eala bhàn tha tàmh orra
Gach là air ’m bheil mi ’n tòir…

—Dòmhnall Ruadh Chorùna, “An Eala Ban”

The First Battle of the Somme began #OTD, 1 July, 1916. Dòmhnall Ruadh Chorùna / Donald MacDonald composed “An Eala Bhan” (“The White Swan”) during the battle.

#Scottish #literature #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #poem #warpoetry #Somme #WW1

An Eala Ban
Dòmhnall Ruadh Chorùna

Gur duilich leam mar tha mi
’S mo chridhe ’n sàs aig bròn
Bhon an uair a dh’fhàg mi
Beanntan ard a’ cheò
Gleanntannan a’ mhànrain
Nan loch, nam bàgh ’s nan sròm
’S an eala bhàn tha tàmh orra
Gach là air ’m bheil mi ’n tòir.

A Mhagaidh na bi tùrsach
A rùin, ged gheibhinn bàs –
Cò am fear am measg an t-sluaigh
A mhaireas buan gu bràth?
Chan eil sinn uile ach air chuairt
Mar dhìthein buaile fàs
Bheir siantannan na bliadhna sìos
’S nach tog a’ ghrian an àird.

Tha ’n talamh lèir mun cuairt dhìom
’Na mheallan suas ’s na neòil;
Aig na ’shells a’ bualadh –
Cha lèir dhomh bhuam le ceò:
Gun chlaisneachd aig mo chluasan
Le fuaim a’ ghunna mhòir;
Ach ged tha ’n uair seo cruaidh orm
Tha mo smuaintean air NicLeòid.

Mas e ’s gu bheil e ’n dàn dhomh
on bhlàr gun till mi beò
Is gu faic mi ’n t-àite
san deach ar n-àrach òg
Bidh sinne ’s crathadh làmh againn
is bilean blàth toirt phòg
’S mo ghealltanas bidh pàighte dhut
le fainne chur mud mheòir.

Oidhche mhath leat fhèin, a rùin
Nad leabaidh chùbhraidh bhlàth;
Cadal sàmhach air a chùl
’s do dhùsgadh sunndach slàn
Tha mise ’n seo san truinnsidh fhuair
’s nam chluasan fuaim a’ bhàis
Gun dùil ri faighinn às le buaidh –
Tha ’n cuan cho buan ri shnàmh.

ALT

The White Swan
Donald MacDonald

Sad I consider my condition
With my heart engaged with sorrow
From the very time that I left
The high bens of the mist
The little glens of dalliance
Of the lochs, the bays and the forelands
And the white swan dwelling there
Whom I daily pursue.

Maggie, don’t be sad
Love, if I should die –
Who among men
Endures eternally?
We are all only on a journey
Like flowers in the deserted cattle fold
That the year’s elements will bring down
And that the sun cannot raise.

All the ground around me
Is like hail in the heavens;
With the shells exploding –
I am blinded by smoke:
My ears are deafened
By the roar of the cannon;
But though this time is hard on me,
My thoughts are on the girl MacLeod.

If it is fated to me
That from the battle I should return safe,
And see the place
Where we were nurtured young
We’ll shake hands
And warm lips shall kiss
And my promise be fulfilled to you
With a ring put round your finger.

Goodnight to you, love
In your warm, sweet-smelling bed;
May you have peaceful sleep and
May you waken healthy and in good spirits
I am here in the cold trench
With the clamour of death in my ears
With no hope of returning victorious –
The ocean is too wide to swim.

ALT

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72d

From the lone shieling of the misty island
Mountains divide us, and the waste of seas—
Yet still the blood is strong, the heart is Highland,
And we in dreams behold the Hebrides…

—“Canadian Boat-Song” (Anon.)
published in Noctes Ambrosianæ, Blackwood’s Magazine Sept 1829

Happy Canada Day! 🇨🇦🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

1/7

#Scottish #literature #19thcentury #Canada #CanadaDay

Canadian Boat-Song—(from the Gaelic.)

Listen to me, as when ye heard our father
‍‍‍‍‍‍Sing long ago, the song of other shores—
Listen to me, and then in chorus gather
‍‍‍‍‍‍All your deep voices, as ye pull your oars:
CHORUS
‍‍‍‍‍‍Fair these broad meads—these hoary woods are grand;
‍‍‍‍‍‍But we are exiles from our fathers’ land.

From the lone shieling of the misty island
‍‍‍‍‍‍Mountains divide us, and the waste of seas—
Yet still the blood is strong, the heart is Highland,
‍‍‍‍‍‍And we in dreams behold the Hebrides:
‍‍‍‍‍‍Fair these broad meads—these hoary woods are grand;
‍‍‍‍‍‍But we are exiles from our fathers’ land.

We ne’er shall tread the fancy-haunted valley,
‍‍‍‍‍‍Where ’tween the dark hills creeps the small clear stream,
In arms around the patriarch banner rally,
‍‍‍‍‍‍Nor see the moon on royal tombstones gleam:
‍‍‍‍‍‍Fair these broad meads—these hoary woods are grand;
‍‍‍‍‍‍But we are exiles from our fathers’ land.

When the bold kindred, in the time long-vanish’d,
‍‍‍‍‍‍Conquer’d the soil and fortified the keep—
No seer foretold the children would be banish’d,
‍‍‍‍‍‍That a degenerate Lord might boast his sheep:
‍‍‍‍‍‍Fair these broad meads—these hoary woods are grand;
‍‍‍‍‍‍But we are exiles from our fathers’ land.

Come foreign rage—let Discord burst in slaughter!
‍‍‍‍‍‍O then for clansman true, and stern claymore—
The hearts that would have given their blood like water,
‍‍‍‍‍‍Beat heavily beyond the Atlantic roar:
‍‍‍‍‍‍Fair these broad meads—these hoary woods are grand;
‍‍‍‍‍‍But we are exiles from our fathers’ land.

ALT

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98d

I keep the heid. I’m cool.
If asked – but you never ask –
I’d answer in tongues
hinting of linns, of Leven,
Nethan, Kelvin, Cart –
but neutral, balancing
both banks equally as I flow…

—Kathleen Jamie, “What the Clyde said, after COP26”

Today, 5 June, is World Environment Day

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #WorldEnvironmentDay #environment #climatechange #globalwarming #globalheating #climatecrisis

What the Clyde said, after COP26
Kathleen Jamie

I keep the heid. I’m cool.
If asked – but you never ask –
I’d answer in tongues
hinting of linns, of Leven,
Nethan, Kelvin, Cart –
but neutral, balancing
both banks equally as I flow . . .

Do I judge? I mind the hammer-swing,
the welders’ flash, the heavy
steel-built hulls I bore downstream
from my city, and maybe
I was a blether-skite then,
a wee bit full of myself,
when we seemed gey near unstoppable . . .

But how can I stomach any more
of these storm rains? How can I
slip quietly away to meet my lover,
the wide-armed Ocean, knowing
I’m a poisoned chalice
she must drain, drinking
everything you chuck away . . .

So these days, I’m a listener, aye.
Think of me as a long level
liquid ear gliding slowly by.
I heard the world’s words,
the pleas of peoples born
where my ships once sailed,
I heard the beautiful promises . . .

and, sure, I’m a river,
but I can take a side.
From this day, I’d rather keep afloat,
like wee folded paper boats,
the hopes of the young folk
chanting at my bank,
fear in their spring-bright eyes

so hear this:
fail them, and I will rise.

ALT

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98d

It’s not the crack you expect.
It’s more a soft whump,
then an elegant leaving, like
a grand piano dropped
from a silent-movie window…

—Karen Ashe, “The Sound of an Iceberg Calving”
published in SOUND OF AN ICEBERG: New Writing Scotland 37 (2019)

https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/newwriting/nws37/

#Scottish #literature #WorldEnvironmentDay‌ #poem #poetry #climatechange #environment #climatecrisis #globalwarming #globalheating

Karen Ashe
The Sound of an Iceberg Calving

It’s not the crack you expect.
It’s more a soft whump,
then an elegant leaving, like
a grand piano dropped
from a silent-movie window,
a slow-motion school bus
over a soap-opera cliff,
Falling Man falling
forever on prime-time news
then the kettle clicks to a rapid boil
as a small finger presses a button,
the screen flickers and blurs,
and the iceberg is replaced
by slimming ads and payday loans,
super-fast fibre-optic wifi,
high-speed trains, and the tea
bleeds into the water and milk
delivered unseen in early hours
from cows in distant misty pastures
stays fresh for nine days
in fat plastic bottles
that go in the recycling
and the baby shudders inside
half a month from completion
and the buy-now-pay-later sofa
is wobbly in the leg already
and the interest-free 42-inch telly is frozen
on an ad for wonga.com
and the dunked biscuit dissolves
in the tea in the time it takes
to change channels
and in some faraway dark cold country
of slavering bears and wandering herdsmen
the iceberg
is still
calving.

ALT

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73d

Colin Bramwell’s FOWER PESSOAS has won the 2025 Duas Leabhair na Gàidhealtacht / Highland Book Prize

“FOWER PESSOAS is a bold reimagining of Fernando Pessoa’s poetry… Colin Bramwell puts all four of [Fernando] Pessoa’s heteronyms into a present-day Scots-language vernacular, & so creates a parochial Pessoa for our own times”

https://www.highlandbookprize.org.uk/winner/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #FernandoPessoa #Scots #Scotslanguage

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97d

dear small daughter for a long time I did not write
what had already become past-tense was past-tense
and I am sorry I was not able to hold it as one might
in a dream hold a stream of water and sing it to sleep…

—Sheila Black, “Climate (7) (Past Tense)”
published in BREAK IN CASE OF SILENCE: New Writing Scotland 39 (2021)

https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/newwriting/nws39/

#Scottish #literature #WorldEnvironmentDay‌ #poem #poetry #climate #climatechange #environment #globalwarming #globalheating #climatecrisis

Sheila Black
Climate (7) (Past Tense)

dear small daughter for a long time I did not write
what had already become past-tense was past-tense
and I am sorry I was not able to hold it as one might
in a dream hold a stream of water and sing it to sleep
and I am sorry that I told you this image as if it were
in truth perdurable plangent and constant moon
over our seas when it is the shifting that matters.
dear small the birds the mockingbirds they sang
in the middle of the night and for this we cursed
them but then we came upon their nests in the black
of day noon when the sun is a diamond burning
through however much blue and the two of them
circled so tirelessly with their wings fanning the
turquoise eggs inside the nest of dead grass and we
understood we were not the only ones but even this
could not stop us from doing as we had done all
our lives long and the cars we pulled out of driveways
and the highways that took us into the buzzing
electric of buildings poured in dense concrete
and the cooling chemicals seeping and cycling
as though through calm artificial hearts and outside
unnoticed the ghost-blue of juniper needle and berry
and the ghost-rising of smoke from the fires we
claimed we had not set. dear daughter now that we
must use the past-tense for what we thought was ours
now as we move into the possible distance I open
my hand to give you this picture of two wings.

ALT

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59d

I wish my whole battened
heart were a property
like this, with swallows
in every room – so at ease

they twitter and preen
from the picture frames
like an audience in the gods
before an opera…

—Kathleen Jamie, “Swallows”
published in The Tree House (Picador, 2004)

https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/kathleen-jamie/the-tree-house/9781509891825

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #swallows

Swallows
Kathleen Jamie

I wish my whole battened
heart were a property
like this, with swallows
in every room – so at ease

they twitter and preen
from the picture frames
like an audience in the gods
before an opera

and in the mornings
wheel above my bed
in a mockery of pity
before winging it

up the stairwell
to stream out into light

ALT

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73d

Abhainn, allt, uisge: Mar a tha a’ Ghàidhlig a’ sruthadh tron chruth-tire
River, stream, water: How Gaelic flows through the landscape
19 September, National Library of Scotland, Edinburgh – free

Gaelic names for Scotland’s rivers & burns reveal reveal the spread of Gaelic across Scotland, & how medieval people understood their landscape

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/river-stream-water-how-gaelic-flows-through-the-landscape-tickets-1992814761597

#Scottish #Scotland #toponymy #placenames #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #medieval

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71d

“A gripping, beautifully written, well-paced but introspective novel, it is perhaps Buchan’s finest achievement. He based the landscapes and the journey closely on some of his own travels in the northwest as Governor-General of Canada, and the book reflects clearly the immensity and variety not only of Canada’s landscapes but its peoples”

—Jordan M Poss on John Buchan’s SICK HEART RIVER 🇨🇦🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

https://www.jordanmposs.com/blog/2022/6/30/sick-heart-river

#Scottish #literature #novel #JohnBuchan #20thcentury #Canada #CanadaDay

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59d

Well Versed Author Event: Iyad Hayatleh
15 July, online. Free.

A poetry reading & discussion with Iyad Hayatleh, as part of Open Book’s Well Versed series in partnership with StAnza Poetry Festival.

Iyad Hayatleh is a Palestinian poet & translator. He was born & grew up in a Palestinian refugee camp in Syria, & has lived in Glasgow since 2000.

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/well-versed-author-event-iyad-hayatleh-tickets-1992753410093

#Scottish #literature #poetry #Glasgow #Palestine

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97d

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

Alexander Scott landed in Normandy in 1944 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, & was a founding editor of our annual anthology NEW WRITING SCOTLAND

Today, 6 June, is the anniversary of D-Day

#Scottish #literature #DDay #poem #poetry #20thcentury #warpoem #warpoetry #WW2 #Scots #Scotslanguage

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.

ALT

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97d

We’re the D-Day Dodgers out in Italy,
Always on the vino, always on the spree…

—“The Ballad of the D-Day Dodgers”, a #WW2 soldiers’ song, to the tune of “Lili Marlene”, & collected by Hamish Henderson (1919–2002). The term was an insulting reference to Allied troops fighting in Italy in 1944 (none of whom, of course, were able to choose where & when to fight). Henderson fought in North Africa & Italy in WW2.

#Scottish #literature #song #poem #WW2 #DDay

Text too long for ALT text. The text can be found online at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D-Day_Dodgers

ALT

Edited 97d ago

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97d

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 #20thcentury #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.

ALT

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72d

Oidhche san Taigh-tasgaidh | Night at the Museum
14 July, Hunterian Museum, Glasgow – £5

Bidh Oidhche san Taigh-tasgaidh a’ comharrachadh gu bheil Oilthigh Ghlaschu a’ cumail co-labhairt eadar-nàiseanta na Gàidhlig, Rannsachadh na Gàidhlig

Night at the Museum marks the University of Glasgow hosting the international conference of Gaelic studies, Rannsachadh na Gàidhlig

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/oidhche-san-taigh-tasgaidh-night-at-the-museum-tickets-1992484989239

#Scottish #literature #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #music #song #poetry

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74d

A Good Read: Louise Welsh & Chris Brookmyre

Currently on BBC Sounds: Louise Welsh & Chris Brookmyre join Harriet Gillbert to discuss two of their favourite books: ESPEDAIR STREET by Iain Banks and MEMENTO MORI by Muriel Spark

https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m002xzs1

#Scottish #literature #books #novels #IainBanks #MurielSpark #LouiseWelsh #ChristopherBrookmyre

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96d

Aonghas Dubh – Ceòl às na Briathran

The poet & writer Aonghas MacNeacail (1942–2022) was born #OTD, 7 June. This programme, originally aired on the BBC, is drawn from “Skerries, Trawlings, Tides” – a literary event celebrating Aonghas’s 80th birthday

1/3

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAb0LdDuaSk

#Scottish #literature #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #AonghasMacNeacail #poetry

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142d

RE: https://mastodon.scot/@scotlit/116442704246019176

Soillse air Alasdair MacIlleathain, ùghdar fìor shoirbheachail eadarnàiseanta le Gàidhlig

MacLean thought he could have written better in Gaelic than English. Originally broadcast on BBC Alba, “Alistair MacLean – An Sgeulaiche” celebrates his work & laments his loss to Gaelic literature (in Gaelic with English subtitles).

@bookstodon

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

#Scottish #literature #20thcentury #thriller #books #Gaidhlig #Gaelic

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99d

Findest du nicht auch, dass Hochlandrinder mit ihrem zotteligen Fell einfach immer so süß aussehen?

Portrait eines lockigen Hochlandrinds - handgemaltes Acrylgemälde
--> https://www.artheroes.de/de/motiv/Portrait-eines-lockigen-Hochlandrinds/1386505

#art #painting #cow #scottish #highlands #farming #kuh

Das Porträt eines lockigen Hochlandrinds ist ein handgefertigtes Acrylgemälde der Künstlerin Karen Kaspar.
Eine zottelige Hochlandkuh mit dickem, rotbraunem Fell schaut den Betrachter direkt an, ihre langen Hörner ragen nach außen. Der Hintergrund ist einfarbig hellblau und kontrastiert mit der strukturierten Optik des Kuhfells.
Das Porträt habe ich im Querformat gemalt. Dieses Gemälde ist auch in meinem Shop erhältlich. Hier habe ich es auf Hochformat zugeschnitten,

ALT

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59d

In Conversation with... Ian Rankin
14 August, Edinburgh. £14.50 / £16.50

In Conversation with Ian Rankin explores the career of the bestselling author behind detective John Rebus. His novels, translated into 36 languages, have been adapted for radio, stage & screen, and earned major honours including multiple Crime Writers' Association Dagger Awards, the Edgar Award, & the Deutscher Krimipreis.

https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/in-conversation-with-ian-rankin

#Scottish #literature #IanRankin #crimewriting #crimefiction

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95d

Columba returns, his curragh, shuddering
on the angry tide. As oyster-catchers wrestle
the whipped air, he gives thanks to this ancient highway,
to this rosary of isles and sea that links all supplications…

—Finola Scott, “Maelstroms”

Today, 8 June, is World Ocean Day

https://worldoceanday.org

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #WorldOceanDay

Maelstroms
Finola Scott

Camas Cuil an t-Saimh, Iona

Columba returns, his curragh, shuddering
on the angry tide. As oyster-catchers wrestle
the whipped air, he gives thanks to this ancient highway,
to this rosary of isles and sea that links all supplications.
Alone now, he will rest and speak to his God.
Soul lightened, feet solid, he blesses the deep shingle,
the sweet dulse of this rock. With wind-tangled shells
rattling his shins he praises the hungry cries
of south-skeining geese, sings halleulia
to the watery gift of this isle, his sanctuary.
He doesn’t know to pray against the Warming,
that will shift the Stream over time. He knows
the heavens, the promise of light. Knows nothing
of ozone layers, of coral reefs dissolving, of the whirlpool
of plastics swirling, of oceans rising, of drownings.

ALT

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95d

“SCABBY QUEEN is a life and death struggle of a book: wounded, angry, beautiful, righteous, beaten and triumphant”
—A.L. Kennedy

Currently on BBC Sounds: award-winning writer Kirstin Innes talks about her second novel, SCABBY QUEEN. Published in 2020, the book explores the life of one-hit wonder & political activist Clio Campbell, who is found dead three days before her fifty-first birthday

@bookstodon

https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m002xdch

#Scottish #literature #novel

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94d

Bloody Scotland 2026
18–20 September, Stirling

Tickets are now on sale for Bloody Scotland 2026, Scotland’s international crime-writing festival.

https://bloodyscotland.com/whats-on/

#Scottish #literature #books #bookfestival #CrimeWriting #BloodyScotland

Poster showing an array of partial closeups of covers of crime novels, all with the word "TOMORROW" in their titles. There is also a large red blood-splatter in the shape of a map of Scotland and its islands. The poster reads:

BLOODY SCOTLAND
18TH–20TH SEPTEMBER 2026
TICKETS FROM bloodyscotland.com

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74d

Poets are Liars

“if poetry genuinely is a truth-telling and poets truth-tellers, it seems important to demonstrate that what we do is falsifiable. What on earth would it mean to ‘lie’ in a poem?”

—Don Paterson on poetry, philosophy, & lies

https://northseapoets.substack.com/p/poets-are-liars

#Scottish #literature #poetry #poetictruth #truth #DonPaterson #philosophy

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74d

This photo’s saying nothing, is black and white, opaque.
A frozen moment, not a memory.
The boyfriend with the Pentax took it for the sake
Of taking it…

—Liz Lochhead, “Photograph, Art Student, Female, Working Class, 1966”
from FUGITIVE COLOURS (Birlinn, 2016)

29 June is National Camera Day 📷

https://birlinn.co.uk/product/fugitive-colours/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Sixties #1960s #photography #NationalCameraDay