Mais où sont les neiges d’antan? (François Villon) Snaw, snaw, haud awa,affa dyke an affa wa,whaur are the snaws o lang afore? Lang syne in Fair-a-Fa’twa craws sat on a wa,haein a clish-clash, haein a jaw,the day was blashie, rowstie rawan washed awa the muckle snaw. Snaw, snaw, haud awa,affa dyke an affa wa,whaur are […]
Snow lie deep, but never so deep As drift the snows on me.Hurt heart break, but never so break As break and bury me.Breath be bitter, but never again So fierce as spent on me.Thought be bitter and words taste bitter As salt on the tongue at sea,But never so bitter a flower as she – Take from me.
At mid-day, suddenly, in summerWithin the air flake drifting upon flake. To build such darkness out of air,Such snow, and its breathed nothingness. At noon the sun itself an emptiness.Ash everywhere. In the ash tufts of hair, Upon the skin a film, a bitternessAnd smell that nothing rubs away. Not snow, and its pure nothingness,But […]
‘Arctica’ is a triptych by Alastair Cook, commissioned by poet Stevie Ronnie.
Arctica is a triptych by Alastair Cook, commissioned by poet Stevie Ronnie.
Arctica is a triptych by Alastair Cook, commissioned by poet Stevie Ronnie.
Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.
Before the fields have finished,
Before the Christmas tree,
Wonder upon wonder
Will arrive to me!
Delicate ermine tracks
/ cross lightly
/ in eights on the winter snow
/ there where a hidden ice-brook with its white fur roof
/ winds forward,
/ there where…
I watch the city shrug its clothes back on.
An appaloosa spatter gathers scent
that hits the brain the way it hits a lawn:
Winter bairns are happed in snaw,
singing merrily on the brae.
Cauld aneuch the wind micht blaw,
it winna worry sic as they.
Es ist ein Schnee gefallen Anon. 16th century
/
/ It’s snawin cats and dugs,
/ Winter’s…
