Five more Scots words for you to discover through poetry and song for #Scotstober - a celebration of the Scots language.
Scotstober Word of the Day 12: 'stramash' - meaning an uproar or a disturbance. Poem by J K Annand who was mostly known for his children's rhymes.
Street Talk
There was a rammie in the street,
A stishie and stramash.
The crabbit wifie up the stair
Pit up her winda sash.
“Nou what’s adae?” the wifie cried,
“Juist tell me what’s adae.”
A day is twinty-fower hours, missis,
Nou gie us peace to play.
“Juist tell me what’s ado,” she cried,
“And nane o yer gab,” cried she.
D’ye no ken a doo’s a pigeon, missis?
Nou haud your wheesht a wee.
“I want to ken what’s up,” she cried,
“And nae mair o yer cheek, ye loun.”
It’s only yer winda that’s up, missis.
For guidsake pit it doun.
Day 13: Word of the Day 'dour'. One of the most well known Scots words, meaning 'hard, stern, sullen, gloomy'. Marion Angus' poem captures that grim atmosphere in her poem 'The Tinker's Road'. Here's a link to her collection by the same name, well out of print.
The Tinker's Road
The broon burn’s speerin’,
Frettin’ a’ the wye,
“What gars ye gang,
Auld Tinker’s Road,
Whaur there’s naither fouk nor kye,
“Kirk nor croft nor mill,
A’ thing lane and still?”
But it’s aye “Haud on”
Wi’ the Tinker’s Road
Fur the far side o’ the hill.
Stannin’ stanes gloomin’,
Grim an’ straucht an’ dour—
“An unco place for a Tinker’s Road
On sic a ghaist-rid moor!”
Ghaist or witch or de’il,
Stanes o’ dule an’ ill,
It’s aye “ Hing in ”
Wi’ the Tinker’s Road
Fur the far side o’ the hill.
The black thorn’s maenin’,
“O rauch winds, let me be !
Atween ye a’
Ye’ve brak ma he’rt,
An’ syne I canna dee!”
Weerin’ til a threid,
Smoored wi’ mosses reid,
The soople road wins ower the tap
An’ tak’s nor tent nor heed.
Day 14: 'stookie' - a plaster cast. Word of the Day 13: 'stookie' - a plaster cast. I found a lovely wee poem by Angela Blacklock-Brown on the StAnza Poetry's Poetry Map. So happy to share this site, not only because one of mine appears on there. A great site with some amazing work.
Ben Gulabin
(Glenshee)
Snaw crooned ben
toorin abuin,
still as a stookie,
nae wun skirlin.
Hairst's gowden chaff
keeks thru the white
an the brig, quate as the sabbath,
stauns wi the gates snecked ticht.
Day 15: 'lowp' which usually means to leap or jump as in the English equivalent lope, but I've most often heard it in Glasgow used as an expression of pain 'mah heid is lowpin'. Here's a lovely tune by the singer-poet Sheena Blackhall who uses a North-Eastern version of Scots often cried Doric.
Braes o Skene
Tune: Plooman Laddies
Fan first I cam tae the Braes o Skene,
The corn parks they stood thick an green.
Chorus: Noo ferm rigs, they growe hooses gray,
Anither change comes wi ilkie day.
The milkin kye gaed frae park tae byre,
An Hillie’s wids fed a lowpin fire.
The bramble buss fulled the berry pan,
The chaumer bed held the orra man.
Noo cottar bairns they hae roved awa,
An swallas bigg in the kitchie waa.
The toon creeps oot like a swallin tide,
Haps steen an lime ower the kintraside.
Fin lost I cam tae the Braes o Skene,
The fowk war gaen an the fermhoose teem.
Word of the Day 16: 'grue'. A new word and a new poet for me today. The DSL seems to mostly define grue as a shudder of fear or cold. This beautifully wrought poem Pietà by Alastair Mackie uses Scots with scalpel precision. A contemporary and friend of George Mackay Brown, the Orkney poet, Mackie's life was tragic and inspiring. You can read about his life here. It's especially interesting his reaction to how schooling beat his Scots out of him.
Pietà
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 breist
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.
