Hjalta

Da eart-bark in among da girse
Is glintin whaar you stride,
An antrin seggie lowin up
Closs be da burn side.
Da blugga, laek da golden sun,
Is blazin far an wide.

You see da luckaminnie’s oo
In hentins spread an drift;
An da mey-flooer cleds da burn-broo
An growes ita da clift.
Da kokkilurie covers aa
Laek da white cloods ower da lift.

Der places oot alang da loch
At yöle-girse sweetly fills
An smora lukks da drummie-bee
Wi da waff at da lang swaar spills;
Da hedder-ön is da very braeth
O da Sooth wind ower da hills.

You dönna see da Simmer pass,
Rose-red wi laamer een;
You see a glöd o blue an gold,
A glisk o white an green;
Onlie da Sooth wind sees an seichs
Ta tink at shö is geen.