Rain

Rain
Rain,
Driven by the win’
Blaffert on blaffert, caul as sin,
Clawin’ yer face, drookin’ yer claes,
Stoorin’ on-devaalin’ for lang fool days,
Fillin’ a’ the burnies, mad roarin’ fu’;
Smorin’ oot the hill fae its fit til its broo,
Till cloods an’ earth meet;
Garin’ a’ the birk-trees wring their han’s an’ greet 
An’ boo their brenches doon
Tae see the haill warl’ droon;
Makin’ o’ the moss
A weet clorty soss;
A’wye dubs an’ glaur,
Dubs an’ glaur
Ow’r yer beets
An’ ow’r yer queets;
Rain, rain,
Till ye think the curse o’ Cain
Maun be water on the brain
An’ ye wiss up there they’d hain
This daft, stoorin’ poorin’ rain.

But yet
Dinna forget
Ye thrawn disjaskit gowk,
For craps an’ beas’ an’ fowk
There’s life in rain,
Rain,
An’ there’s only a’e chiel
It’ll neither feed nor queel – 
The deil. 

Fairly, fairly; a blatter noo an’ than
Is rale gweed for the lan’,
Bit a haill week’s onding
Is sair
Tae bear
An’ mair
Than lan’
Or man
Can
Stan’. 
John M. Caie

from 'Twixt Hills and Sea: verse in Scots and English (D. Wyllie & Son, 1939)

John M. Caie

A senior agriculturalist, J. M. Caie wrote about the rural life of North-East Scotland in the 1930s, and was the author of the poem about the vaunty frog, 'The Puddock'.

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