O Rab an’ Dave an’ rantin’ Jim,
The geans were turnin’ reid
When Scotland saw yer line grow dim,
Wi’ the pipers at its heid…
A mean wind wanders through the backcourt trash.
Hackles on puddles rise, old mattresses
puff briefly and subside…
Sorrow remembers us when day is done.
/ It sits in its old chair gently rocking
/ and singing tenderly in the evening.
/ It welcomes…
“This year, neist year, sometime, never,”
/ A lanely lass, bringing hame the kye,
/ Pu’s at a…
Private D. Sutherland
/ killed in action in the German trench, May 16, 1916,
/ and the others who died
/ So you were David’s…
Lord, when I’m speechless
/ when something – not just sorrow
/ but under that – a dull, numb, nameless dreich
/ about the heart I…
There are worse things than having behaved foolishly in public.
/ There are worse things than these miniature betrayals,
/ committed or endured or…
Translated by Coleman Barks
/ This being human is a guest house.
/ Every morning a new arrival.
/ A joy, a depression, a meanness,
We would be snaking up Loch Lomond, the
/ road narrow and winding after the turn at Tarbert,
/ and we’d be bending branches…
Didn’t we think, for a moment, / of crushing his feet / so he couldn’t return to the house /…
Tensile strength. You would have liked that phrase,
/ lecturing me on how a spider’s thread
/ is stronger bonded than a rope…