excerpt from Farm by the Shore - by
small oats rye bere barley
ripe harvest in late summer
a shallow ploughing
grazing and fallow in rotation
small oats rye bere barley
ripe harvest in late summer
a shallow ploughing
grazing and fallow in rotation
I remember the tilt of the deep canvas chairs, and then men
/ sitting idle,
/ And out in the paddocks a hoof…
I hae stuid an hour o the lown midsimmer nicht
/ til twal o the knock i the leelang glamarie-licht
/ by…
Summer grass is shoulder high once more, / higher than my sons will ever be.
The auld Assembly-rooms, whaur Scott
foregethert wi his fiers,
nou see a gey kenspeckle lot
ablow the chandeliers.
Come we to the summer, to the summer we will come,
For the woods are full of bluebells and the hedges full of bloom,
And the crow is on the oak a-building of her nest,
And love is burning diamonds in my true lover’s breast.
How do you like to go up in a swing,
/ Up in the air so blue?
/ Oh, I do…
Summer climbs the mountains.
Flowers overcolour and blanch.
Men leave the sun and sit,
tree-tented, by the cold creek.
Midday, just look around:
/ the heat raises the sand to a boil.
/ Life is nothing more than a myth
/ when summer comes to…
the crickets
/
/ one by one
/ whirring out
/
/ like flakes of light
/ from heaven
/
/ flickered at the
/ trees and grass
/
/ and sat
/ and sang
/
/ and something moved
/ something changed
/
/ the…
Alone in this bay near Port Mary
/ only the waves creeping in
/ and the squeal of a buzzard
/ high on a clifftop…
Süýrgünortan! Niçik görnüş!
/ Jöwza ähli zatdan ökde.
/ Ýaşaýyş ýöne bir ”myş-myş”
/ Tomus bu ýowuz toprakda.
/
/ Bir düýe ýatyr bagyryp,
/ Jokrama yssa çydaman.
/ Çaga dek boýnuny burup,
/ Kimden…
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