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  Help required - Rainbow??.
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49 Wall Posts

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  by STEVE 1 year ago

  DA SEA
  Du reflects da lift high up abün 
  In aa his different lays, 
  An glanses idda bright light 
  Wi da boanie sunny days. 
  Du nüns da dunter dukes ta sleep 
  An du swittles ower da saand, 
  Playin 'canna catch me' wi da wind 
  Whin he skjips doon ower da laand. 
  Bit sood da wind be coorse wi dee, 
  An da lift be grey an tirn, 
  Du can bare dee teeth laek a bitin dug, 
  An frush an spit an girn. 
  Du can tear da face atto da banks 
  Whin du's kerried awa wi dee game, 
  Dan njoag an gronn laek a dortin bairn
  Lang efter da wind's geen hame. 
  Du lays monny a boanie boat in bruck 
  An monny a hert in twa; 
  Kerries monny a freend an monny a foe, 
  Baith tae wis an awa. 
  Mirrors da mün in romantic mood 
  For da lad an lass gjaan hame, 
  Or saftly achoes da aald man's sighs
  As he waatches dee in a draem.
  Haand athin haand wi da wind gengs du, 
  An nedder keens night or day; 
  Makkin or brakkin da wark a man, 
  An meden oot whaat he can hae. 
  Du's beauty an freedom an life an death, 
  An we sood aa staand a­daar a dee, 
  Fro nae man can tame dee an nae hadds keep, 
  Bit du's inspiration ta me.
  For whin wi a coorse an ackwirt ert 
  I staand doon near ta da shore, 
  An watch dee froadin at me feet 
  An listen ta dee roar, 
  As du wirries da muckle rocks an kletts 
  At du fins atti dee rod 
  Du lights a fire atti me hert, 
  An I git closs ta God
  rhoda butler
• 

  by STEVE 1 year ago

  Flans frae da haaf
  Da wind flans in frae Fitful Head 
  Whaar dayset in a glöd 
  Hings ower da far haaf’s wastern rim 
  Reeb’d red as yatlin blöd. 
  An flannin in frae dat black ert,
  Borne in on flans o faer 
  Come cauld black tochets at numb da hert
  An slokk da emmers dere.
  Oh Loard abön, hadd Dy grit hand 
  Afore da daylicht dees, 
  Ower aa at ploo dir lonely furr 
  Trowe dy wind­skordet seas. 
  O Loard, I pray, look kindly doon 
  An haad Dy haand ower aa, 
  Till my lang­santet hert wins back 
  Whaar winds sall never blaa.
  Whaar winds sall never blaa nae mair 
  Nor skies nae langer lour, 
  Whaar dayset laek some hamely hand 
  Smoors aa herts emmers ower. 
  Da wind flans in frae Fitful Head 
  Wast ower frae blatterin seas, 
  Bit never da lang, land lippen’d sail
  Whaar licht an lippnin dees.
  Laurence Graham
• 

  by STEVE 1 year ago

  Emily Milne's 'Daa looks i da door' has a quiet poignancy.
  
  Da mün fleein fast trow da spindrift o stars
  A stillness near ower still ta baer,
  Da voe glowin dark i da lowe o da snaa
  An a silence at hadds you laek faer.
  
  A bark echoes sudden an sharp ower da voe,
  Da Tamsins’ black dug I kyin fine.
  An a roch waarnin kwaark ringin ower frae da craig
  Tells o idder lugs lissnin lik mine.
  
  Dat starts hit aff, an nixt comes da skirls
  O lasses an lads frae da kirk
  An da skriechs o wir Liza as doon ower da ice
  Gyengs hir hymebook an pandraps an hir.
  
  Da lantrins gyengs blinkin sae lichtsimly hame
  Sometheen splashes juist nort da daekend;
  I mind me o idder fül nichts sam as dis
  An sich, an sae turn me in.
• 

  by STEVE 1 year ago

  Seine Netters - Jack Peterson. Vivid portrayal of the lives of fishermen, and mariners past and present.
  
  Black aa roond, an da steep seas makkin;
  Gunwale ta gunwale, till da decks rin white;
  Mast-head licht in a swirlin moorie
  Loopin aboot laek a thing geen gyte.
  
  Hullo! – Hullo! – Hullo! –
  Daybreak calling Venture –
  Venture – Venture – Venture
  Daybreak calling Venture ...
  
  Fag-end glint i da wheelhoose window;
  Tide-lumps brakkin laek ghosts on da baem;
  Lost aa sight o da laand fir an oor noo –
  Dis is da rodd da Norsemen cam haem.
  
  Swein, an Hal, an da Bare-legged Magni,
  Brusi da Black, an Kol Brokkenbanes,
  Day an nicht, wi der een ta da wastard,
  Strampin da seas laek der ain briggistanes.
  
  
  Hullo! – Hullo! – Hullo! –
  Twa drags – forty boxes –
  Twa drags – forty –
  Twa drags – forty boxes ...
  
  Androo John an Grace Ann’s Robbi,
  Willi by Nort an Hugh frae da Hadd,
  Day efter day, i da hert-hol a winter,
  Shuttin, draggin an guttin laek mad.
  
  Oot an awa afore you an me’s waakin,
  Niver dön till lang efter dark;
  Trivvlin der wye by baa an by Voder,
  Fishermen, makkin fur haem frae der wark.
  
  Venture calling Daybreak –
  Daybreak – Daybreak – Daybreak –
  What’s da price a haddocks
  In Aberdeen da day? ...
  
  Da price! Da price! An da Nort Baas brakkin!
  What’s da price, braks a winter’s gale?
  Senses tuned ta a wirld obstropolus
  Ready ta act sood onything fail.
  
  What’s da price, an da squall comes dirrlin:
  Black aa roond, nor ever a glaem –
  Compass, wheel, an a ee ta windward,
  Haddin da rodd da Norsemen cam haem
• 

  by STEVE 1 year ago

  Yarnin - James Sinclair. A conversation on Dale o Waas beach
  
  Hit’s braaly herd ta fathom, how
  a lobster can survive dis wadder.
  Wi da gale blawin an a wasterly swell runnin
  joost a bulderation in-anunder da banks
  an du sees yun big baa oot by da point
  yes, yunder, whaar yun muckle sea is brakkin.
  
  I mind wis takkin a peerie skiff doon aff da beach
  on a February day in nineteen fifty fower
  an settin a creel richt on tap o dat baa.
  Whin we hailed da creel, we got tree lobsters
  dat day we set an hailed twal creels
  an hed sixteen lobsters fur wir day.
  
  Du sees yun noosts set up abune da beach.
  Da story goes, dat mony a year fae syne
  a muckle sea ran richt up da high watter mark
  an tumbled aw da boats up ower da broo.
  Naa boy, du’s no likly ta see Foula
  da day, dir’s ower muckle haar fur dat.
• 

  by STEVE 1 year ago

  Dee and Me - Emily Milne. A gentle, reflective love poem
  
  Dee and Me Whin we ir geen an aa is nicht
  Da mön'll waak da hills in licht,
  An saaftly tö wir fit'll cum
  Ta waak whaar we wir wint ta roam.
  
  An dere alang da shoormal saand,
  As we wir wint, closs haand in haand,
  Nae time'll haalt wir daandrin shön,
  We'll waatch da staars sheen oot da mön.
  
  Whaar whisperin hedder pents da hills
  An aa da air wi sweetness fills,
  A'll boo da berries broon ta see,
  An aa da big eens gie ta dee.
  
  Doon bi da lochside, bi da seggs,
  We'll seek da raingös' twa broon eggs
  An at da waater's edge dey'll be,
  Fur dee ta finn agyn wi me.
  
  An whin da voe is sparklin rare,
  An aa da banks wi flooers is fair,
  A'll turn ta meet dy sheenin een,
  We'll laach an link wir haands agyn.
  
  So dunna lat wir herts be sair,
  An dunna lat wis greet nae mair,
  Fur tho we kyn it hes ta be,
  Latna hit dant wis, dee an me.
• 

  by STEVE 2 years ago

  HAJALTA - VAGALAND (BY T. A. ROBERTSON)-THE SIGHTS AND SCENTS OF THE SHETLAND COUNTRYSIDE IN SUMMER:
  
  Da eart-bark in among da girse
  Is glintin whaar you stride,
  An antrin seggie lowin up
  Closs be da burn side.
  Da blugga, laek da golden sun,
  Is blazin far an wide.
  
  You see da luckaminnie's oo
  In hentins spread an drift;
  An da mey-flooer cleds da burn-broo
  An growes ita da clift.
  Da kokkilurie covers aa
  Laek da white cloods ower da lift.
  
  Der places oot alang da loch
  At yöle-girse sweetly fills
  An smora lukks da drummie-bee
  Wi da waff at da lang swaar spills
  Da hedder-ön is da very braeth
  O da Sooth wind ower da hills.
  
  You donna see da Simmer pass
  Rose-red wi laamer een;
  You see a glöd o blue an gold,
  A glisk o white an green;
  Onlie da Sooth wind sees an seichs
  Ta tink at shö is geen.
  
  BEST OF SUMMERS TO ALL OF YOU IN SHETLAND!
• 

  by STEVE 2 years ago

  Love in a Caald limate: by Christine De Luca
  
  Hit wisna his widden palin
  nor da openwark o steyns set
  ta brack da wind, nor
  da hedder he prammed
  atween fences; nor
  
  da tang he tör fae da ebb
  an turned an turned, nor
  his fingers brakkin clods;
  nor wis hit da sun scrimin
  peerie-wyes. Na, hit wis
  
  da draem shö planted
  an a rösin ithin her luik
  as shö stakit hit, willin
  da wan rose ta oppen,
  ta hadd mirknen.
• 

  by STEVE 2 years ago

  a poem for anglers: "Frisk Waatir troot" by robert allen jaimeson
  
  Afoar he laerns t'sykil a byk
  he's tentilie rowin da flatboddim
  roond an aroond Melbie logh.
  
  Siks jieir aald
  an dark paetie waatir's
  slappin at da syd.
  
  He's wurriet'at sumien myght kiek
  fae da quhyt-waasht hoos
  akross da girssie mødoo an sie
  
  waatir siepin in aboot
  his rubber bøt fiet -
  an he'd gjit a lugfoo
  
  quhan he wan hem,
  fir no tellin oniebodie
  he laekit denchir tø.
  
  a childhood picture from sandness:
  
  translation:
  
  Before he learns to ride a bike, he's carefully rowing the skiff, round and round Melby loch.
  Six years old, and dark peaty water's slapping at the side.
  He's worried that someone might look from the white-washed house across the grassy meadow and see
  Water seeping in about his rubber-boot feet - and he'd get an earful
  When he got home, for not telling anybody that he likes danger too.
• 

  by STEVE 2 years ago

  a fun poem : "clearin Oot Da Haandbag" by rhoda butler
  
  Da idder day I cam hame wi da airrents fae da street,
  Wappit da lot apö da table, dan sat doon ta aese me feet.
  I lookit ower at da kettle, dan rase an switched im on
  For somethin ta revive me, for I wis nearly don.
  
  I made a scar a coffee (yun kind atto da jar),
  Dan pat awa da messages an tidied up a scar,
  Dan as I liftit up me haandbag ta lay im up ootby,
  Me airm could hardly jee im wi whaat he hed ta wigh.
  
  I tried ta mind da hidmist time at I wis cleared im oot,
  Bit hit wis datn lang fae syne at I wis left in doot;
  Sae I turned aboot da peerie sneck an oppened im dere an dan,
  Cummled im oot apö da table, an dis is what I fan:
  
  Dey wir forty-tree brunt matches an eleeven kirby grips,
  Therteen muckle elastic baands an fower paper clips,
  Tree woarn tubes a lipstick an pooder for me face,
  An da brucks o a rowel a Sellotape tied up wi an aald böt lace.
  
  Twa peerie empty craem jars an tweezers at wir bent,
  A boanie peerie bottle at eence wis filt wi scent,
  A pritty ting o picter at da peerie boy wis made,
  An tree full boxes a matches at I niver kent I hed.
  
  Dey wir juist a shaef a paper wi notts at I'd made eence,
  A peerie bit a redder an eighteen safety preens,
  Tree yairds o elastic, peerie sheers at clippit swint,
  A bran new packeedge wi twunty fags an a ooey Polo Mint.
  
  A pair a lovely navy glivs decorated wi a tassle,
  An a peerie souvenir book fae Edinburgh Castle,
  A stamp wi Churchill's face apun im, twa boanie peerie stanes,
  A muckle dadd a plasticene an fower biro pens.
  
  A thing for oppenin tins wi an da wirds a me favourite hyme,
  Five mottos oota crackers at wis poo'd at Christmastime,
  Twa boanie coloured postcairds at I 'd bowt o wir Aald Rock,
  An therty-two letters at I wis gotten fae different fok.
  
  A peerie box wi rubbery stuff for stickin things on waas,
  An seeven paper hankies row'd up in peerie baas,
  A pair a bairn's glesses rims, twa bulbs for cycle lamps,
  2p vouchers for margarine an a wadd o Co-op stamps.
  
  Dey wir five paper njaepkins (da kind da jantry use),
  Eight big galvanised waashers an forteen roosty screws,
  A shade caird for Peacock an Buchan's pent, an a recipe for stew,
  A ticket fae a concert an a scar a moorit oo.
  
  Dey wir aspirins an liniment for doctorin spaigied hochs*,
  A wharter a clatchy caramels an twartree peerie mochs,
  Tree entirely different aer-bells an a brocken string a beads,
  A scorie's pen an chewin gum an umpteen aiple seeds.
  
  Nae doot A'm missed oot somethin, bit as I lookit at da sloo
  As it lay apö da table wi da fag ess an da oo,
  I juist didna hae da hert ta fire it oot, sae dere an dan
  I dustit aff o da maist o it an packit it back again.