A fine day
Hit wis da swans, dat’s whit it wis.
Dat’s whit set da day apairt.
Twa cygnets, happit in emsket,
a midder, a faider. A peerie geo
aa ta wirsels, whaar waves yockit
sands saftly, maas cried oot abun,
an da sun drappit waarmest hugs
apö wir shooders, glinkin atween
white cloods o oo. Bit da swans,
no buddered be dat, skoited at wis tochtfully,
saw a faider, a midder, twa bairns,
an lat wis in. As wir bairns played
da cygnets circled, curious, comin closs,
closser, skeetin awaa, owre shy efter aa,
ta hoid anunder midder’s wing. Wir bairns
wis much da sam, unsure o da uncan.
Lookin up fae wipin sand fae a peerie
een’s face, I lockit een wi midder swan
an richt den I kent shö wis seein hersel.
An richt den I kent I saw mesel tö.
About this poem
This poem was included in Best Scottish Poems 2021. Best Scottish Poems is an online publication, consisting of 20 poems chosen by a different editor each year, with comments by the editor and poets. It provides a personal overview of a year of Scottish poetry. The 2021 editor for Scots language poetry was Sheena Blackhall.
Editor’s note:
Maxine Rose Munro’s “A fine Day” frae The New Shetlander is ane I hae wyled frae the lave. It’s the sicht o a faimily o swans, a tryst wi a human faimily, I’ve ay likit veesions o trysts wi wud breets:
Lookin up fae wipin sand fae a peerie
Een’s face, I locket een wi midder swanAn richt den I kent shö wis seein hersel
An richt den I kent I saw mesel tö
Author’s note:
This poem is about a real day, everything happened just as it does in the poem. All I did was try to convey how special that day was. I first tried to write it in English, but the poem failed almost immediately. I suspect Shetlandic Scots worked because it’s the language of my childhood and family (who still reside on the islands), and so fitted the topic.
I think a non-Scottish reader should be able to work out the poem’s dialect words using context (though there’s an excellent online Shetland dictionary if needed) but the title might lose something, because to a Scot the word ‘fine’ doesn’t simply mean nice. It can mean near perfect, comfort, ease, happiness, something delicate or special, and much more. Also, let’s not forget, a day of fine weather is a miraculous, precious thing in and of itself. The title means all that.
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Maxine Rose Munro
Maxine Rose Munro is a poet, writing in both English and Shetlandic Scots.