True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank,A ferlie he spied wi’ his e’e;And there he saw a ladye brightCome riding down by the Eildon Tree.Her shirt was o’ the grass-green silk.Her mantle o’ the velvet fyne;At ilka tett of her horse’s maneHung fifty siller bells and nine.True Thomas, he pull’d aff his capAnd louted low down […]
they said
you’re not a real
boy until you cut
the wizard out of the tree
The secret me swims
with the big fish, brash, he swaggers
like a mermaid, bares teeth
like daggers, barks at the moon when it’s thin.
Field of the land producing thatch
/ Shieling of grinding wheat
/ Burn beside the dun coloured dell
/ Burn of the mournful bleat
/
/ Burn of the…
They’re peripheral to the story
/ grotesque beside the beautiful Prince and Princess
/ or the Snow Queen in her white sleigh
/
/ and even the…
tell us a story they said
he thought a long time
unsure, like someone
searching blind in a cave
Cuil-lodair, is Briseadh na h-Eaglaise,
/ is briseadh nan tacannan –
/ lamhachas-làidir dà thrian de ar comas;
/ ‘se seòltachd tha dhìth oirinn.
/ Nuair a…
Up the airy mountain,
/ Down the rushy glen,
/ We daren’t go a-hunting
/ For fear of little men;
/ Wee…
