The Wild Swans at Coole - by
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
/ The woodland paths are dry,
/ Under the October twilight the water …
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
/ The woodland paths are dry,
/ Under the October twilight the water …
About ane bank, where birds on bewis
/ Ten thousand times their notis renewis
/ Ilk hour into the day,
/ The…
For our last meal together / my father takes out of the freezer / a tray of frozen songbirds.
The slight hearing loss / we each suffer from / means we sometimes / fail to catch the sense /…
Air iomall an talamh-àitich, eadar dhà sholas,
/ tha a’ churracag a’ ruith ʼs a’ stad, ʼs a’ ruith ʼs a’ stad,
/ is…
In rigorous hours, when down the iron lane
/ The redbreast looks in vain
/ For hips and haws,
/ Lo, shining flowers upon my window…
Wee wullie waggletail, what is a’ your stishie?
Tak a sowp o’ water and coorie on a stane:
Ilka tree stands dozent, and the wind without a hishie
Fitters in atween the fleurs and shogs them, ane be ane.
Twa wee birdies,
Sittin on a hill,
Ane ca’d Jack,
And anither ca’d Jill.
The year goes, the woods decay, and after,
many a summer dies. The swan
on Bingham’s pond, a ghost, comes and goes.
The nightingale has a lyre of gold,
/ The lark’s is a clarion-call,
/ And the blackbird plays but…
dead still
/
/ no nervous skull-shakes
/ or scuttle-pecks
/
/ still
/
/ hiding in doorway shadows
/ as sun slides
/ like a drunkard
/ down dull bricks
/
/ head still
/
/ a single slice of bread
/ hollowed out…
SUMMER-TIME…
/ Living is easy:
/ wide-horned shaggy cows, rust-red,
/ waist-deep in thick sedge.
/
/ DIPPER.
/ white tux, black dj,
/ takes the ripples of applause,
/ all the stones a…