Document 512

The Wizard o the North

Author(s): Sheena Blackhall

Copyright holder(s): Sheena Blackhall

Poems in Scots for Halflins


The Wizard o the North

There is a wizard in the North
He makks a magic brew
That changes aa the wirdies
That are bidin in yer moo!

In English, fowk say 'What' and 'Who'
And 'When' and 'Why' and 'Where'
In Glesga toun, it's 'Whit' an 'Wha'
An 'Whaur' that they say there.
Bit ower the Doric loons an quines
The wizard shakks his wand
Fur it's 'Fit', 'Fa', 'Fan' and 'Far' we say
Aa roon the Nor' East Land!

Should ye faa upon an English 'stone',
In Glesga it's a 'stane'
They'll tell ye ower the telephone
They're hurt their funny-'bane'
In Aiberdeen, it's 'steen' an 'been'
The wizard's wark again!

A 'crow's' an English birdie
He's a 'craw' in Glesga toun
Bit the 'crow' becomes a 'craa'
Fin he flees oot the wizard's goun!
On England shines the silver 'moon'
A 'muin' ower Glesga's seen
Bit the wizard casts his spell on us
Up here, we see a 'meen'!

In Scotland, they may tell ye tae
'Awa an 'bile' yer heid.'
In England, 'boiling' heads would be
An odd pastime indeed
Bit fur eence, the wizard's sleepin
Fur he disna bat an ee...
It's the same 'biled' heid in Glesga,
Embro, Fitty, an Dundee!

I think I ken the secret o the wizard's magic laws...
It's aboot far bairns come frae an the wye ye wirk yer jaas!


The Weather Forecast

A hurricane's blootered Dunoon!
Ilkie reeftap blew aff o the toon!
They flew past Big Ben at a quarter tae ten,
Wi a wife in an auld flannel goon!

A moonsoon's brocht chaos tae Ayr.
A doonpish at a fitbaa match there,
Washed the goalie, the baa, and the players anna
Like wee boaties, awa tae Turlair.

A blizzard as coorse as a vice,
His turned hauf o Lumphanan tae ice.
Ye can skyte throw the shire, like a penguin on fire,
An reach Russia, withoot blinkin twice.

An earthquake his shook Aiberdeen.
Marischal College is noo in the Green.
Three quarters o Torry fell doon Rubislaw Quarry,
And Northfield his flitted tae Skene.

A heatwave his frizzled Braemar.
Aa the towrists hae meltit like tar.
The troot in the burn, hae bin fried tae a turn,
There's fish suppers frae Dess tae Cromar.

The weather cock jetted tae Spain.
Says he'll nae be returnin again.
This terrible weather has broken each feather
And frozen the frills o his caimb.

Snaa, smirr, on-dings mochy an oorie
We thole, forbyes drucht hett an stoorie
Sae, gin ye ging oot, takk yer waukin buits stoot
Yer wellies, bikini, an toorie.


Letter fae a distressed heidie

Dear Mrs McRae,

Aboot yer Sam,
I doot we've expelled the little lamb.
He birssled Miss Bruce wi a bunsen burner,
Drew fuskers ower a print bi Turner,
Aa throw Science he played his trannie,
Gied a Glesga kiss tae the jannie,
Pit the gerbil up May Webster's kilt,
Kennin fine she's allegric tilt.
Smashed ilkie windae in the study,
Said 'Fresh air is guid fur a body'.
The library books we canna read,
He drapped them aa on the cleaner's heid.
Last time the globe o the warld wis seen,
He wis stottin't aroon the bowlin green.
The Grampian region bus we hired
Tae ging tae Skye, his bin retired
Since your wee Sam clogged up its plugs,
Wi a jar o glue an a pooch o bugs.
Its the anely handwirk he's dane aa year,
Apairt frae wreckin the art room fleer
Wi his bovver buits. He jist gid daft
Fin telt that tattoin wisna craft.
The computor left fur repair last wikk.
He gid it a tap wi a hockey stick.
The public baths say they'd like tae batter
Fa pit the crocodile inno the watter.
I cud rin on, bit ma pen's run dry.
Naebody can say we didna try!
The meenister prayer fur his soul's redemption
Bit the Lord cried doon 'There's nae exemption
Fur Sam McRae, as nae tae be vague,
Yon vratch o a loon is a walkin plague.'
Enclosed is his schule wirk, R.I.P.
Tae Mrs McRae,
Yours faithfully....


Newspapers

Sklaik, claik,
It's aa in the press,
Waddins an daiths
Frae Nigg tae Dess,
Boxies o crosswirds
Far ye've tae guess,
The answers. And recipes,
Sales o cars,
Fit yer future is in the stars,
Fa's been born
And fa's bin jyled,
Fa hid their simmer holiday spyled

Ads fur jyners,
Ads fur sparkies,
Ads fur videos, Boots and Markies,
Features on fitbaa,
Fashion and Pets,
Stories on fairmers,
Skiffies an vets,
Politics, photies
O icy weather
Provost an pensioners
Snapped thegither

Sklaik, claik,
It's aa in the press
Aa the blether
Frae Nigg tae Dess.


Victoria an Albert

Victoria an Albert
Had skiffies galore
An Empire that raxxed
Frae Sudan tae Lahore

In the toons o their time
There war thoosans o slums
An wee shargeret bairnies
War made tae clean lums.

There wis cholera, typhoid,
Diptheria as weel
An a muckle black tawse
Fin ye gaed tae the skweel

They hung fowk, they wheeped fowk
Syne prayed fur their sowels
An fed fowk in Peer Hooses
Parritch in bowls.

Victoria an Albert
They baith liked tae bide
Hyne ootower frae Lunnon
On bonnie Deeside
An here in the toon,
Thon braw twa ye'll still meet
Fur the cooncil's named efter them
Park, dock, an street!


World War 2

Is thon the bombers comin?
Is thon the siren's wail?
Wi the black oot, aathing's hidden
Bit they will drap a shell
On Pittodrie, Torry, Seaton,
If the slichtest licht they see
I maun hurry tae the shelter
They micht drap a bomb on me!

Is thon the wikkly shoppin?
Carrot cake an breid an jam?
Oh it's queues, mair queues, an rationin
An tins an tins o spam
Uncle Alex oot at Udny's
Nearly oot the door wi fleas
Since a trainie frae the Gorbals
Brocht him ten evacuees.

Is thon the evenin paper?
Is there ony word o da?
He's fechtin Hitler's Nazis
In a country hyne awa
Mr Churchill said he hid tae,
Sae the warld micht be free.
I winner fit oor bombers dae
Tae bairns in Germany?


Hingin Oot the Washin

Wallop! Wallop! Fite as skurries,
Hippens rug on winny days,
Nummer 12 his got a babby,
See her peggin oot his claes!

Dreepin! Dreepin! Mr Baxter's
Straikit dungarees doon hing,
He's a peinter ower the Winter,
Dells the gairdens in the Spring.

Mrs Thamson's draaers are lacy,
See them dauncin on the line!
Jiggin there, wi skirt that Tracy
Bocht this wikk, the same as mine!

Jiggle wiggle! Sally Biggle's
Breeks are lowpin up an doon,
Bricht's a lark wi her man's sark
An her wee dother Jenny's goon!

Flichter flachter! Granny's duvet
Wags its airms like a ghaist
Thamson's dug his stole ma T-shirt
Mammy! Daddy! Catch it faist!


Doric Food Rap

Birssle, birssle sing the twa broon kippers,
Catched fur the grill bi the North East skippers.
Oatcakes, cornflakes, da likes haddies,
"Weetabix fur us!" cry growin laddies.

Granda's suppin up pease meal brose.
Gyad, yon's scunnerin. Haud yer nose.
Granda's teeth's in a wee fite mug,
Doon gaes the pease meal glug glug glug.

Mollie the collie chaws an auld coo's been.
The catty gnaws a ratty wi its milk an cream.
Skweel denne's trendy, mine's a pyoke
O chips wi a burger an a can o coke.

Kali frae Bali in classroom three,
Swallaes her chippataes wi a cup o tea.
Dod Jean an Donna sit doon tae dine,
On a parten an a labster frae the ocean brine.

Hame tae teas- snuff the smells aa roon,
Hairy tatties wyte fur Willie Broon,
Pizza fur Peter brocht frae Italy,
Omelette fur Jessie brocht in gay Paree,
Stir fry chukken jist fur Mary Anne,
Paella fur Bella, an chilli fur Sam.

Mary Buchan's waukin back tae stovies,
Mrs Giuseppi's dishin up anchovies,
Jimmy May'll hae a plate o skirlie,
Cullen Skink is on the plate fur Shirley,
An I can tell bi the sea fish bree,
There's buckies bylin on the hob fur me.

On wi the jammies, suppertime noo
Shortbreid cocoa, my kyte's foo!


The Check Oot Quine's Lament

Tatties, neeps, an ingin,
Poother fur the wash,
Wullie's needin new sheen,
Grip, skyte, flash.

Sweeties, ale, some flooer,
A tinnie wi a bash.
I'm wirkin like robot,
Grip, skyte, flash.

Safties, glaisses, bacon,
Intment fur a rash,
Ma hoose is like a midden,
Grip, skyte, flash.

Mealie jimmies, ganzie,
Cheque, or card, or cash,
Ma dowp is dottled sittin,
Grip, skyte, flash.

Aathin's in a hurry,
Fowk in sic a hash,
Customers, anonymous.
Grip, skyte, flash.

A trolly like Ben Nevis!
Michty fit a fash!
I'm scunnert an I'm foonert.
Grip, skyte, flash.

Noo ma shift is endin.
Beans an orange squash.
Hame tae dee the hoosewirk
Up, oot dash!


S.O.S.

S.O.S. S.O.S. I am a phone box in distress!
Jeannie Murphy's quine wis greetin,
Said she catched her boyfriend cheatin.

Big Joe Christie's giro's tint,
Phoned the Broo tae sae he's skint.

Auld Ma Sangster's neebor telt her,
Vandals smashed the new bus shelter.

Jocky Todd is stottin fu.
Baxter's laddie's sniffin glue.

S.O.S. S.O.S. I am a phone box in distress!
If the news I gie is bad,
Ten tae wan the fowk get mad,
An they catch me by the lug,
Gie ma wires an heid a rug.

Takk me Lord, frae cooncil scheme
Tae be a phone box on the meen!


Skyscraper Faimily

Skyscraper faimily, it maun be a chore,
Bidin twenty storeys frae yer ain front door.
Bi day, ye've gulls fur neebors, syne ye've stars aa nicht.
Save on the electric wi the meen fur licht.

Skyscraper faimily, it's aff heich yer hoose.
Div ye keep a bat there, far we micht hae a moose?
Fit a tapsalteerie wunner o a street
Faimilies at yer heid, ay an ithers at yer feet!

Skyscraper faimily, dis yer washin dry?
Dis yer mither peg it onno rainbows in the sky?
Div ye get a hurl on a passin aeroplane?
Veesit Spain an Italy, syne hame fur tea again?

Skyscraper faimily, ye've affa far tae faa
Naewye tae play wi a bycycle or baa
Fin the bairn greets, div ye hing her on a cloud?
My, it maun be lanely, hyne abeen the crowd.


The Unfeenished Symphony

The unfeenished symphony... Far did it ging?
Did it skip tae the coort o the Tsars?
Did it hide in the tents o the traivellin fowk,
A gypsy lament tae the stars?

Did it sail fur the deserts o Istanbul?
Did it daunce in a Bedouin's drum?
Did it flee on the wings o a passin bird
Tae the mosques o Byzantium?

Did it thoom a hurl on a Simmer's cloud
Tae be piped in Katmandu?
Oh far did the unfeenished symphony gyang?
And far is it playin noo?


This is the Hoose Jack Biggit

This is the hoose Jack biggit.
This is the chiel
That bedd in the hoose Jack biggit.
This is the chiel that merriet a wife
That bore a bairn that bedd in the hoose Jack biggit.

This is the hoose Jack biggit.
This is the chiel
That gaed tae wark tae keep the wife
That bore him a bairn that bedd in the hoose Jack biggit.

This is the hoose Jack biggit.
This is the chiel that needit a dram
Tae thole his life wi his lovin wife
That bore him a bairn that bedd in the hoose Jack biggit.

This is the hoose Jack biggit.
This is the chiel
That thrashed the bairn
(The innocent bairn, fa did nae hairm)
That bedd in the hoose Jack biggit.

This is the hoose Jack biggit.
This is the bairn
That grew tae a man,
That took him a wife
Tae share his life
That bore him a bairn (an innocent bairn
That did nae hairm)
That he'll thrash an thraw
Jist like his da
That bedd in the hoose Jack biggit.

This is the hoose Jack biggit.......


The Traffic Licht's Sang

I am a traffic licht. King o the road,
Fin I flash my crimson ee,
The Highway Code says larry an load
Maun stop an takk tent o me.

I am a traffic licht. I see aa,
The Fiesta, the Ford, the Fiat.
I carena a hoot tho they cry 'Toot toot'
Fin I say STOP, they dee it!

I am a traffic licht, happit in stoor,
A skinnymalinkie craitur.
It's certain sure I'm crabbit an soor
Pollution's ma nearest neebor!

I am a traffic licht. I'm a limb
O the law. A robot-sage.
Nae sweirin. Nae jeerin. Nae Gran' Prix steerin.
I canna abide road rage!

I am a traffic licht. Oh, the sichts
Frae ma emerant een I spy!
Back seat girners. Stott-bang learners,
Saabs, as sossy's a sty!

I am a traffic licht. Cars an vans
Are the life bluid flowin ben
The lanes o ma veesion. Traffic stramash
An hash is the warld I ken!


Hinna Gotta

Hinna gotta bairnie,
Hinna gotta lass,
Hinna gotta hope n' hell o
Gettin ony brass.
Nae wirk fur young fowk,
Wytin in the queue,
Staunin wi the lay affs,
Hingin roon the Broo.

Sez tae the cooncil
"Hae ye a hoose fur me?"
"Come back fin yer ninety,
Ye'll get priority.
If ye'd a timmer leg or a babby in a pram,
Ye micht staun a chaunce, son.
Ging hame tae yer mam."

Mam disna wint me.
It's fecht, fecht, fecht.
Mebbe she wis young hersel,
In eichteen eichty eicht.

Dog pish, hashish,
Aa i wint's a hame,
Jist grant me ae wish,
A place tae caa ma ain.
Ony kinno cubbyhole,
A place tae coorie doon,
Then ye widna hae tae thole
Me dossin roon the toon.

Birds hae their nesties,
Biggit in a tree.
Gerron Mister Cooncil man
Bigg a hoose fur me!


Raggie Maggie

Raggie Maggie doon oor street's
Got twa gley een, an pirn tae feet,
Got sheen that wallop wide as flippers,
Tide merks broon as toastit kippers.

Her shanks are thin as drinkin straas,
Her shins are barked wi cloors an faas,
Her skirt dock's shiny. Her verra cat's
Like somethin the dug's bin chawin at.

Her ma weirs furry anklet beets,
Knickers big as King Kong's sheets.
She keeps twa littlins in a pram,
An the hale jing bang etts breid an jam.

Raggie Maggie doon oor street's
Got lugs as broon as Irish peats,
Teeth like traicle poored ower shail,
Hair as ruggy's a collie's tail.
Shot frae the gun o her twin bore snoot,
Twa bogies flee, baith in an oot.

Raggie Maggie guffs o pee.
Her da's run aff tae the Queen's Navee.
"Raggie Maggie!" the bairnies cry
Skirlin roon aboot her "Penny fur the Guy!"
Maggie lauchs like she disna care,
An cannily, cannily, climms the stair.

Bit fin she sleeps in her cauld, hard, room,
A prince steps forrit ooto the gloom,
Aa nicht throw they bob an birl,
Room the lums, far the Tom cats skirl.


Ma Dearie

Gien her aathin,
Best years o ma life.
Cooker, fridge, TV.
Indoor lavvy.

Niver bashed her aince,
Wi siller, or skint.
Fit mair
Cud a wumman wint?

Doon the boozer,
I'm Action Man
Wi a ring pull can.
She's at hame
Aa her lane.
Hoose like a midden!
Is she affrontit?
Deil the grain!
Armageddon!

Doon the boozer,
I'm dynamite.
Come hame fleein,
Heich as a kite,
That cheerie.
Luiks at me
Like she'd like tae bite-
Ma dearie.


Ghaists an bogles

Incantations, seance claik,
Occult charms an Tarot pack.
Fin the meen is peely wally,
Warlock rule ower coven black.

Broonies, kelpies, ghaists an bogles,
Poltergeist frae graveyaird glaur,
Silkies, skeletons an banshees,
Cross the kirkyaird gin ye daur!

Zombie, alien, broomstick rider,
Fearie fleg o tickin clock.
In a roon o wab an spider...
Fit wid happen, should it stop?

Voodoo, cock craa, cat an corbie,
Gar ye grue at Halloween.
Nichtmares come gin ye've bin watchin
Frichtsome films on TV screen!


Maisie C.

A halflin quine caad Maisie Cotter,
Ay left her ferlies in a sotter.
Her fooshty socks, her orra duddies,
The verra drawers frae aff her hurdies
In ilkie airt, frae room tae stair,
Played laldy wi the ozone layer.

Her wallpaper wis clartit stoot,
Wi bibblins frae her bubbly snoot.
The gerbil, fa'd bin bynamed Ned,
Hid biggit nests in Maisie's bed.
It chawed the fleer, an on a sudden
It ett the duvet doon fur pudden.

Scunnert o reddin up her soss,
An seein Maisie as a cross
They'd tholed ower lang, her ma an pa
Rose up ae day an ran awa.

They hired a cooncil rubbish skip
Tae hurl Maisie tae the tip
Fa widna dae as she wis bidden
Miss Maisie C... Address, The Midden.


Elly Broon

Elly bides far the toon's kirk steeples soar
Her neebors? The Northern lichts, an a pirn tae doo.
Skyscrapers rise like gravesteens aside her door,
Mair tidemerks roon her bath than the QE2.

Gaps in her teeth, as mony's a bandstand's railins
The gas in her flat is aff. There's a Polar breeze.
Elly bides wi her gran far the planes gyang sailin
Alane wi her sookin cloot an a kink hoast wheeze.

The leein box in the neuk shows hames wi plenty,
A da, a ma, twa bairns an a gairden neat,
Wi a catty, roon's a barrel, fite an deintie.
In Elly's kitchie the moosies sit an greet.

Monday mornin. Brakkfast's a broken bikky.
Doon in the lift that's peintit like Sioux,
Scraunin the bins fur pieces, back o the chippy
Billy McGinty's da stots, rot -gut foo.

Aff tae the skweel far Miss McBain wis wytin,
(Miss McBain wi her nails aa buffed an reid)
"Elly.. yer late! Nae hamewirk deen! Yer writin
Luiks like raw o spiders lyin deid!"

Aa through lessons, Elly's heid is noddin,
Hard bi the radiator's cosy guff,
Dreams o a TV cat in its furry claethin,
Its bowlie foo.. a spylt baa o fluff.

Twinty hoasts an the bell, brakk through her dwaumin-
"Hiv ye nae hame tae ging till Elly Broon!"
Ootbye, a doonpish sets the litter sweemin.
The skweel is scalin the classies ben the toun.

Mebbe granny'll win the pot at bingo!
Mebbe the junkie's moved, ootside her hame!
Elly opens the door, excitement risin.
Tea's on the table. Breid n' jam again.


Gimme-Time Blues

Gotta hae a TV
Gotta hae a phone
Gotta hae a holiday
In Greece or Rome.

Gotta hae a motor,
Gotta hae a shooer,
Gotta hae a ghettoblaster
On full pooer

Gimme a jacuzzi
Da, if ye can
Fur it's buy, buy, buy
In the consumer clan.

Ye winna? Och, yer eeseless,
A scunner o a da.
I'd kill fur a computer
Gonna get ain, ma?


The Sodjer

Heatherin eerin orin aye,
The drums are dirlin lood ootbye!
Hiddledum diddledum deitherin deist,
The pipes are willin the lads tae list.

Too roo rantin ree,
Hine awa an ower the sea,
Hudderin heiderin hodderin hey,
Cannon rick is cauld an gray.

Eenertie feenertie fichertie feg,
The sodjer's gotten a widden leg.
Pirlie wirlie winkie woan,
Far's the cheer in winnin yon?


The Bombing

'Faither, fit kinno birdie's yon?'
Speired a loon at the door.
'Anely a seagull hashin on
Fur the cauld sea shore.'

'Faither fit kinno soun is yon
I hear aroon?'
'Anely the birr o traffic, bairn
Gaun through the toon'.

'Faither, fit kinno ferlie's yon
That faas frae high?'
'A deidly flooer as reid's a rose.
Come back inbye.'

'Twelve hooses stood alang the road
An noo there's nine.'
'Gie thanks that war has passed us ower
This time.'


The Fish Gutter's Sang

Haud the fishie bi the gills,
Rug the knife alang its belly.
Banes are staunin up like quills,
Haud yer heb, it's affa smelly!
Dauds o fite, o green, o yalla,
Yon's the guts the scurries swalla.

Slivvery blobs like dauds o jeely,
Aa come oot the fishie's belly,
Hack its heid aff an its tail,
Guttin on throw snaw an hail,
Cuts an cracks makk fingers reid,
Satty clooties sype wi bluid,
Fa wad be a fisher quine,
Guttin herrin frae the brine?


Frankenstein's Lullaby

I pu ma duvet roon ma neb,
Ma chin, kyte, hurdies, happin,
In case the croc aneth the bed,
Sud slidder oot, 'cause it's nae fed.
Wi nesty teeth snip aff ma taes,
(I'm sure he hisna ett fur days)
I hear his gnashers snappin!

I draa ma duvet ower ma snoot,
Fur at the windae, glowerin,
A bogle stauns in ghaistie cloots,
As frae a tree a hoolet hoots.
Coont Dracula wi dreepin fangs,
Flees by, wi bats an vampire gangs
Whylst in ma bed I'm cooerin.

I pu ma pilla ower ma lug,
Fur doon the stairs I'm hearin,
The knap an knell, the chooch an chug,
As Frankenstein gaes ower the rug,
Wi chynes that makk an eildrich din,
He's waltzin wi a skeleton
Tae frichten me frae sleepin!


Halloween (i)

Fin nichts draw in an fires burn high,
An antrin bogles glower inbye,
An leaves gang tapsalteerie ower...
Cannie! Yon's the witchin hour.

Lift the neeps frae yont the dyke,
Howk them oot wi muckle fyke,
Candles teet tween eerie een,
Fairies flit at Halloween.

Pare the aipple's rosy cheek
Gin yer true love's name ye'd seek,
Or, in darkened mirror watch,
Wheesht! His likeness ye may catch.

I've heard tell, but say it low,
O warlocks steerin lang ago,
Risin, grim frae graveyard steen,
Wid fleg the breeks frae ony wean.

Sae gin it's aa the same tae you
I'll hug the cheery ingle-side,
Lest wi the ferlies in the dew
I micht collide.


Halloween (ii)

A chap at the door ... a lichtit neep,
Rikkin o cannel-flame.
The pitterin-patt o feery feet;
Guisers, thrangin the lane.

The fleggit myowt o a lanely bairn,
Wha kens that aa's nae richt.
Wis yon a cat... o a midnicht hag,
Wi her black, black, back arched ticht?

Nocht bit a whigmaleerie?
Fowk say that tombs are teem.
That the deid are walkin eerie
Wi rypit stars for een.

A chap at the door... or wis't the win
Scrattin the windae-pane?
The pitterin-patt o fairy feet
In ghaistly claes... or rain?


The Tattiebogle

The tattiebogle wags his heid,
Derk shadda ower the yird,
He's hingin, sterk an crucifeed,
The dreid o ilkie bird.

His jaikit pooch, a moosie hauds.
His kyte, a kirn o strae,
An ben the air his fooshty duds
Gyang wallop nicht an day.

The sentry o the dubby park
Preened tae a timmer post,
Ye mind, fin Winter made its merk,
I sweir I heard him hoast!


The Worry

A Worry the size of a midgie or flee,
Creepit inno the bosie o Teenie McGee.
It grew through the nicht big's a were-wolf sae furry,
Nae twa winks o sleep could she get for the Worry.

Next mornin, at brakkfaist she drew up a cheer,
An saw, tae her horror, the Worry sat there.
It treetled ahin her fin she wauked tae class,
Sae big noo, the teacher could hardly win past.

Fariver she gaed it wid lowp like a troot,
Frae bus stop tae hame blottin aa the warld oot!
She'd staun in the street
'I've a Worry!' she'd yell.
'Be quate' fowk roared back
'We've got Worries wirsel!'

Sae she gaed tae her granny, an grat on her lap.
(The Worry cam tae, big's an elephant's bap).
Granny tuik oot her glaisses, the Worry tae see,
Bit noo Teenie'd shared it, the Worry grew wee.
It shrank an it shrank till it dwinnlit awa
A Worry, eence shared's nae a Worry ava!


The Dream

A dream cam teetin roon ma door,
'Can I come?' said he,
I fixed him wi a glaissy ee,
An speired him questions three.

'Oh dae ye bring a happy dream
O bonnie simmer days?
Or dae ye bring a widden-dream
O bogies, ghaists, an waes?
Or dae ye bring a prophecy
Tae tell o roads I'll rin?
Oh tell me truly, chappin dream
Afore I let ye in!'


European Scots

Pict, Celt an nesty Norseman,
My, fitiver wid fowk say,
If they kent that they're still bidin
Here in Aiberdeen the day!

Aber's Pict fur river mooth
Roman Deva's Dee,
The Frenchmen gied us Bon Accord
Corbie an pertrick tee!

Should ye gae up tae Hazleheid
O golf tae play a roon
As ye hunker in a bunker
Yer a Flemish kinna loon.

Takk a daunder up Deeside awhile
Tae loch an glen an Ben
Admirin strath an burnie
Thon's some Celtic wirds ye ken!

At the skweel ye meet the dominie
A Latin kind of mannie
An if yer gweed an tidy,
Ye'll be likit bi the jannie.

Watch oot fur the Scandinavians,
Vikings at the Brig o Dee!
They'll burn yer kirk aroon yer lugs
Withoot ae wird o lee.

European Aiberdonians
Skinnie dippin on the san
At nicht pairty wi the Germans
We're a mixed linguistic lan!


Big Issue

"Tinkie tinkie tarry brikks"
Hear the townsfowk cry,
"Dinna staun in oor street
Beggin on the sly."

Brukken teeth an ragnails,
Hauns as thin's a cleuk,
Like a tattiebogle,
Creepit frae a neuk.

Hooded een an flechy sark,
Jaiket, walloped wide,
Fa wid let yon coorie
Roon their clean fireside?

Styterin on spinnle shanks,
Twa spurtles weirin sheen,
Sookin frae a bottle,
Oblivion's his frien.

"Tinkie tinkie tarry brikks"
Seen in ilkie toon
Some ither body's dother
Some ither body's loon.


Twa Bairns

Doon oor bit there's mair graffiti
Than the tomb o Nefertiti
Multistoreys are oor streets
Windaes fu o dryin sheets
Socks that wins'll wheep an wheech
Cassies splattered wi dug-keech

Ice cream mannie plays a tune
Brings wee bairns an mithers roon
Chippie on the corner stauns
Plunkin pyokes in hungeret hauns

Oor dug Tiger's got a moo
That cud gnash the QE2
Guairds the littlins in the hoose
Fin there's muggers on the loose

Oor da Terry's got tattoes
He's quick tae fecht an quick tae roose
A TV king, the anely een
Can cheenge the channels on the screen

Doon oor bit we dinna tell
We keep oor business tae oorsel
If yer a frien we'll haud yer haun
Twa bairns agin the warld we staun.


Diet

"Bird", quo the powser,
Dichtin his mowser,
"Delichts a carouser"

"Een", quo the craw
"Frae a corp in the snaa
Tastes best ava."

"Wirm", quo the merle,
"Rowed in slivvers o pearl,
Is meat fur an Earl."

"Glegs" quo the taed
Frae his thrapple o jade,
"Fur naething, I'd trade."

"Bens" quo the mist
"I sweel doon at ae tryst
Like a lid on a kist"

"Beens", quo the mools
"Ma derk desire fuels,
Like a pyockfu o jewels"


The Dinosaur

A dinosaur! A dinosaur!
We niver saw the like afore!
The beastie makks the bairnies roar
Frae Sumburgh tae Singapore!

A dinosaur! His muckle moo
Has teeth as lang as knives,
An fin he roars, the tabby
Losses aa its seeven lives!

A dinosaur! His ilkie snore
Caas continents ajee.
An fin he piddles lochs arise,
As braid's the Irish sea.

A dinosaur! Fit dis he ett?
A herd o coos fur tea!
He sweels it doon wi a lagoon
O vats o barley bree.

A dinosaur! His heid's amang
The aeroplanes an stars.
His legs are pylons, tail's as lang's
A traffic jam o cars.

A dinosaur's a fearsome breet
Fin it lies doon tae claw,
Bit fin it daunces, hae a care
Skyscrapers stert tae faa!


Romans

See them deein! Colosseum
Thon's the place tae watch a kill
Jupiter, Apollo, Neptune
Gods fur gweed an Gods fur ill

Tasty ostriche byled wi brains
Baths, mosaics, modern drains
Legions, Caesars, sodjers' roads
Wine an olives, Latin odes.

Wad ye wanner in the gloamin
Wi a muckle ancient Roman?
Eat a doremoose for yer tea?
Washed doon wi flamingo bree?

Vulcan, Venus, Ceres, Mars
Romans... famed fur Gods an Wars
In the language litter-bin
They've left lots of wirds ahin!


Egypt

The Nile rins deep, the Nile rins wide
Doon its watters the crocodiles glide

The meen shines white, the meen shines cool
Ower dunes that the Pharoahs eesed tae rule

The san lies hett, the san lies gowd
The palms roon the green oasis showd

The sun has the sting o a scorpion
It'll burn ye black as a current bun
Egypt: far Moses wis in the seggs.
An the mummies sleep wi their rowed-up legs.


Hauns

Turn the peat,
Mask the tea.
Dicht the greet
Frae a bairnie's ee.
Kepp the kye,
Shear the sheep.
Sell an buy,
Sow an reap.
Hack the coal
Frae the pit heid waa.
Lay the strae
In the stirkie's staa.
Preen an darn,
Spin an weave.
Fecht or pray,
Clap or grieve.
Twa guid friens,
Twa servants baith,
Rock the cradle,
Dig the grave.


Vikings:
Tune: The Keel Rowe

We will takk the whale road
The gale road, the sail road
Ower the seas the hale road
Wi Odin at the prow.

Chorus
Forrit will oor keels rowe
Oor keels rowe
Oor keels rowe
Forrit will oor keels rowe
The Vikings fae the North

We will cam as traders
Invaders an raiders
We will cam as settler
Weel may oor boaties rowe!

We will kill the kirk fowk
We will flegg an dirk fowk
We will capture slave fowk
In ilkie knowe an howe.

Information about Document 512

The Wizard o the North