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TRANSLATIONS OF SCOTTISH POETS These are my modern English translations of poems by the Scottish poets William Dunbar, Robert Burns, William Soutar and Hugh MacDiarmid. Ballad by William Soutar translation/modernization by Michael R. Burch O, surely you have seen my love Down where the waters wind: He walks like one who fears no man And yet his eyes are kind! O, surely you have seen my love At the turning of the tide: For then he gathers in his nets Down by the waterside! Yes, lassie we have seen your love At the turning of the tide: For he was with the fisher folk Down by the waterside. The fisher folk worked at their trade No far from Walnut Grove: They gathered in their dripping nets And found your one true love! The Watergaw by Hugh MacDiarmid loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch One wet forenight in the sheep-shearing season I saw the uncanniest thing— a watergaw with its wavering light shining beyond the wild downpour of rain and I thought of the last wild look that you gave when you knew you were destined for the grave. There was no light in the skylark's nest that night—no—nor any in mine; but now often I've thought of that foolish light and of these irrational hearts of men and I think that, perhaps, at last I ken what your look meant then. Sweet Rose of Virtue by William Dunbar loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness, delightful lily of youthful wantonness, richest in bounty and in beauty clear and in every virtue men hold most dear― except only that you are merciless. Into your garden, today, I followed you; there I saw flowers of freshest hue, both white and red, delightful to see, and wholesome herbs, waving resplendently― yet nowhere one leaf nor petal of rue. I fear that March with his last arctic blast has slain my fair rose and left her downcast, whose piteous death does my heart such pain that I long to plant love's root again― so comforting her bowering leaves have been. If the tenth line seems confusing, it helps to know that rue symbolizes pity and also has medicinal uses; thus I believe the unrequiting lover is being accused of a lack of compassion and perhaps of withholding her healing attentions. The penultimate line can be taken as a rather naughty double entendre, but I will leave that interpretation up to the reader! 'Sweet Rose of Virtue' has been described as a 'lovely, elegant poem in the amour courtois tradition' or courtly love tradition. According to Tom Scott, author of 'Dunbar: A Critical Exposition of the Poems, ' this poem is 'Dunbar's most perfect lyric, and one of the supreme lyrics in Scots and English.' William Dunbar [c.1460-1530] has been called the Poet Laureate of the court of King James IV of Scotland. Lament for the Makaris [Makers, or Poets] by William Dunbar loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch i who enjoyed good health and gladness am overwhelmed now by life's terrible sickness and enfeebled with infirmity... how the fear of Death dismays me! our presence here is mere vainglory; the false world is but transitory; the flesh is frail; the Fiend runs free... how the fear of Death dismays me! the state of man is changeable: now sound, now sick, now blithe, now dull, now manic, now devoid of glee... how the fear of Death dismays me! no state on earth stands here securely; as the wild wind shakes the willow tree, so wavers this world's vanity... how the fear of Death dismays me! Death leads the knights into the field (unarmored under helm and shield) sole Victor of each red mêlée... how the fear of Death dismays me! that strange, despotic Beast tears from its mother's breast the babe, full of benignity... how the fear of Death dismays me! He takes the champion of the hour, the captain of the highest tower, the beautiful damsel in her tower... how the fear of Death dismays me! He spares no lord for his elegance, nor clerk for his intelligence; His dreadful stroke no man can flee... how the fear of Death dismays me! artist, magician, scientist, orator, debater, theologist, must all conclude, so too, as we: 'how the fear of Death dismays me! ' in medicine the most astute sawbones and surgeons all fall mute; they cannot save themselves, or flee... how the fear of Death dismays me! i see the Makers among the unsaved; the greatest of Poets all go to the grave; He does not spare them their faculty... how the fear of Death dismays me! i have seen Him pitilessly devour our noble Chaucer, poetry's flower, and Lydgate and Gower (great Trinity!) ... how the fear of Death dismays me! since He has taken my brothers all, i know He will not let me live past the fall; His next prey will be — poor unfortunate me! ... how the fear of Death dismays me! there is no remedy for Death; we all must prepare to relinquish breath so that after we die, we may be set free from 'the fear of Death dismays me! ' Comin Thro the Rye by Robert Burns translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body, Jenny's seldom dry; She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Should a body meet a body Comin' through the rye, Should a body kiss a body, Need anybody cry? Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Should a body meet a body Comin' through the glen, Should a body kiss a body, Need all the world know, then? Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. To a Mouse by Robert Burns translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Sleek, tiny, timorous, cowering beast, why's such panic in your breast? Why dash away, so quick, so rash, in a frenzied flash when I would be loath to pursue you with a murderous plowstaff! I'm truly sorry Man's dominion has broken Nature's social union, and justifies that bad opinion which makes you startle, when I'm your poor, earth-born companion and fellow mortal! I have no doubt you sometimes thieve; What of it, friend? You too must live! A random corn-ear in a shock's a small behest; it- 'll give me a blessing to know such a loss; I'll never miss it! Your tiny house lies in a ruin, its fragile walls wind-rent and strewn! Now nothing's left to construct you a new one of mosses green since bleak December's winds, ensuing, blow fast and keen! You saw your fields laid bare and waste with weary winter closing fast, and cozy here, beneath the blast, you thought to dwell, till crash! the cruel iron ploughshare passed straight through your cell! That flimsy heap of leaves and stubble had cost you many a weary nibble! Now you're turned out, for all your trouble, less house and hold, to endure cold winter's icy dribble and hoarfrosts cold! But mouse-friend, you are not alone in proving foresight may be vain: the best-laid schemes of Mice and Men go oft awry, and leave us only grief and pain, for promised joy! Still, friend, you're blessed compared with me! Only present dangers make you flee: But, ouch! , behind me I can see grim prospects drear! While forward-looking seers, we humans guess and fear! To a Louse by Robert Burns translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Hey! Where're you going, you crawling hair-fly? Your impudence protects you, barely; I can only say that you swagger rarely Over gauze and lace. Though faith! I fear you dine but sparely In such a place. You ugly, creeping, blasted wonder, Detested, shunned by both saint and sinner, How dare you set your feet upon her— So fine a lady! Go somewhere else to seek your dinner On some poor body. Off! around some beggar's temple shamble: There you may creep, and sprawl, and scramble, With other kindred, jumping cattle, In shoals and nations; Where horn nor bone never dare unsettle Your thick plantations. Now hold you there! You're out of sight, Below the folderols, snug and tight; No, faith just yet! You'll not be right, Till you've got on it: The very topmost, towering height Of miss's bonnet. My word! right bold you root, contrary, As plump and gray as any gooseberry. Oh, for some rank, mercurial resin, Or dread red poison; I'd give you such a hearty dose, flea, It'd dress your noggin! I wouldn't be surprised to spy You on some housewife's flannel tie: Or maybe on some ragged boy's Pale undervest; But Miss's finest bonnet! Fie! How dare you jest? Oh Jenny, do not toss your head, And lash your lovely braids abroad! You hardly know what cursed speed The creature's making! Those winks and finger-ends, I dread, Are notice-taking! O would some Power with vision teach us To see ourselves as others see us! It would from many a blunder free us, And foolish notions: What airs in dress and carriage would leave us, And even devotion! Auld Lang Syne by Robert Burns translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Should old acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should old acquaintance be forgot, And days for which we pine? For times we shared, my darling, Days passed, once yours and mine, We'll raise a cup of kindness yet, To those fond-remembered times! Have you ever wondered just exactly what you're singing? 'Auld lang syne' means something like 'times gone by' or 'times long since passed' and in the context of the song means something like 'times long since passed that we shared together and now remember fondly.' In my translation, which is not word-for-word, I try to communicate what I believe Burns was trying to communicate: raising a toast to fond recollections of times shared in the past. Banks of Doon by Robert Burns translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Oh, banks and hills of lovely Doon, How can you bloom so fresh and fair; How can you chant, diminutive birds, When I'm so weary, full of care! You'll break my heart, small warblers, Flittering through the flowering thorn: Reminding me of long-lost joys, Departed—never to return! I've often wandered lovely Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine; And as the lark sang of its love, Just as fondly, I sang of mine. Then gaily-hearted I plucked a rose, So fragrant upon its thorny tree; And my false lover stole my rose, But, ah! , he left the thorn in me. The poem 'Comin Thro the Rye' by Robert Burns may be best-known today because of Holden Caulfield's misinterpretation of it in The Catcher in the Rye. In the book, Caulfield relates his fantasy to his sister, Phoebe: he's the 'catcher in the rye, ' rescuing children from falling from a cliff. Phoebe corrects him, pointing out that poem is not about a 'catcher' in the rye, but about a girl who has met someone in the rye for a kiss (or more) , got her underclothes wet (not for the first time) , and is dragging her way back to a polite (i.e., Puritanical) society that despises girls who are 'easy.' Robert Burns, an honest man, was exhibiting empathy for girls who were castigated for doing what all the boys and men longed to do themselves. Comin Thro the Rye by Robert Burns modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch O, Jenny's a' weet, poor body, // Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body, Jenny's seldom dry; // Jenny's seldom dry; She draigl't a' her petticoattie // She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin thro' the rye. // Comin' through the rye. Comin thro the rye, poor body, // Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin thro the rye, // Comin' through the rye. She draigl't a'her petticoatie, // She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin thro the rye! // Comin' through the rye. Gin a body meet a body // Should a body meet a body Comin thro the rye, // Comin' through the rye, Gin a body kiss a body, // Should a body kiss a body, Need a body cry? // Need anybody cry? Comin thro the rye, poor body, // Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin thro the rye, // Comin' through the rye. She draigl't a'her petticoatie, // She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin thro the rye! // Comin' through the rye. Gin a body meet a body // Should a body meet a body Comin thro the glen, // Comin' through the glen, Gin a body kiss a body, // Should a body kiss a body, Need the warld ken? // Need all the world know, then? Comin thro the rye, poor body, // Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin thro the rye, // Comin' through the rye. She draigl't a'her petticoatie, // She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin thro the rye! // Comin' through the rye. A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Oh my luve is like a red, red rose // Oh, my love is like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June: // that's newly sprung in June Oh my luve is like the melodie // and my love is like the melody That's sweetly play'd in tune. // that's sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonie lass, // And you're so fair, my lovely lass, So deep in luve am I; // and so deep in love am I, And I will luve thee still, my dear, // that I will love you still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. // till all the seas run dry. Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, // Till all the seas run dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun; // and the rocks melt with the sun! And I will luve thee still, my dear, // And I will love you still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run. // while the sands of life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only luve! // And fare you well, my only love! And fare thee weel a while! // And fare you well, awhile! And I will come again, my luve, // And I will come again, my love, Tho' it were ten thousand mile! // though it were ten thousand miles! Keywords/Tags: Scot, Scotland, Scottish poem, modern English translation, translations, Robert Burns, William Dunbar, William Soutar, Hugh MacDiarmid
0
Apr 1, 2023
Apr 1, 2023 at 4:25 AM UTC
michael-r-burch
TRANSLATIONS OF SCOTTISH POETS
TRANSLATIONS OF SCOTTISH POETS These are my modern English translations of poems by the Scottish poets William Dunbar, Robert Burns, William Soutar and Hugh MacDiarmid. Ballad by William Soutar translation/modernization by Michael R. Burch O, surely you have seen my love Down where the waters wind: He walks like one who fears no man And yet his eyes are kind! O, surely you have seen my love At the turning of the tide: For then he gathers in his nets Down by the waterside! Yes, lassie we have seen your love At the turning of the tide: For he was with the fisher folk Down by the waterside. The fisher folk worked at their trade No far from Walnut Grove: They gathered in their dripping nets And found your one true love! The Watergaw by Hugh MacDiarmid loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch One wet forenight in the sheep-shearing season I saw the uncanniest thing— a watergaw with its wavering light shining beyond the wild downpour of rain and I thought of the last wild look that you gave when you knew you were destined for the grave. There was no light in the skylark's nest that night—no—nor any in mine; but now often I've thought of that foolish light and of these irrational hearts of men and I think that, perhaps, at last I ken what your look meant then. Sweet Rose of Virtue by William Dunbar loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness, delightful lily of youthful wantonness, richest in bounty and in beauty clear and in every virtue men hold most dear― except only that you are merciless. Into your garden, today, I followed you; there I saw flowers of freshest hue, both white and red, delightful to see, and wholesome herbs, waving resplendently― yet nowhere one leaf nor petal of rue. I fear that March with his last arctic blast has slain my fair rose and left her downcast, whose piteous death does my heart such pain that I long to plant love's root again― so comforting her bowering leaves have been. If the tenth line seems confusing, it helps to know that rue symbolizes pity and also has medicinal uses; thus I believe the unrequiting lover is being accused of a lack of compassion and perhaps of withholding her healing attentions. The penultimate line can be taken as a rather naughty double entendre, but I will leave that interpretation up to the reader! 'Sweet Rose of Virtue' has been described as a 'lovely, elegant poem in the amour courtois tradition' or courtly love tradition. According to Tom Scott, author of 'Dunbar: A Critical Exposition of the Poems, ' this poem is 'Dunbar's most perfect lyric, and one of the supreme lyrics in Scots and English.' William Dunbar [c.1460-1530] has been called the Poet Laureate of the court of King James IV of Scotland. Lament for the Makaris [Makers, or Poets] by William Dunbar loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch i who enjoyed good health and gladness am overwhelmed now by life's terrible sickness and enfeebled with infirmity... how the fear of Death dismays me! our presence here is mere vainglory; the false world is but transitory; the flesh is frail; the Fiend runs free... how the fear of Death dismays me! the state of man is changeable: now sound, now sick, now blithe, now dull, now manic, now devoid of glee... how the fear of Death dismays me! no state on earth stands here securely; as the wild wind shakes the willow tree, so wavers this world's vanity... how the fear of Death dismays me! Death leads the knights into the field (unarmored under helm and shield) sole Victor of each red mêlée... how the fear of Death dismays me! that strange, despotic Beast tears from its mother's breast the babe, full of benignity... how the fear of Death dismays me! He takes the champion of the hour, the captain of the highest tower, the beautiful damsel in her tower... how the fear of Death dismays me! He spares no lord for his elegance, nor clerk for his intelligence; His dreadful stroke no man can flee... how the fear of Death dismays me! artist, magician, scientist, orator, debater, theologist, must all conclude, so too, as we: 'how the fear of Death dismays me! ' in medicine the most astute sawbones and surgeons all fall mute; they cannot save themselves, or flee... how the fear of Death dismays me! i see the Makers among the unsaved; the greatest of Poets all go to the grave; He does not spare them their faculty... how the fear of Death dismays me! i have seen Him pitilessly devour our noble Chaucer, poetry's flower, and Lydgate and Gower (great Trinity!) ... how the fear of Death dismays me! since He has taken my brothers all, i know He will not let me live past the fall; His next prey will be — poor unfortunate me! ... how the fear of Death dismays me! there is no remedy for Death; we all must prepare to relinquish breath so that after we die, we may be set free from 'the fear of Death dismays me! ' Comin Thro the Rye by Robert Burns translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body, Jenny's seldom dry; She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Should a body meet a body Comin' through the rye, Should a body kiss a body, Need anybody cry? Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Should a body meet a body Comin' through the glen, Should a body kiss a body, Need all the world know, then? Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. To a Mouse by Robert Burns translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Sleek, tiny, timorous, cowering beast, why's such panic in your breast? Why dash away, so quick, so rash, in a frenzied flash when I would be loath to pursue you with a murderous plowstaff! I'm truly sorry Man's dominion has broken Nature's social union, and justifies that bad opinion which makes you startle, when I'm your poor, earth-born companion and fellow mortal! I have no doubt you sometimes thieve; What of it, friend? You too must live! A random corn-ear in a shock's a small behest; it- 'll give me a blessing to know such a loss; I'll never miss it! Your tiny house lies in a ruin, its fragile walls wind-rent and strewn! Now nothing's left to construct you a new one of mosses green since bleak December's winds, ensuing, blow fast and keen! You saw your fields laid bare and waste with weary winter closing fast, and cozy here, beneath the blast, you thought to dwell, till crash! the cruel iron ploughshare passed straight through your cell! That flimsy heap of leaves and stubble had cost you many a weary nibble! Now you're turned out, for all your trouble, less house and hold, to endure cold winter's icy dribble and hoarfrosts cold! But mouse-friend, you are not alone in proving foresight may be vain: the best-laid schemes of Mice and Men go oft awry, and leave us only grief and pain, for promised joy! Still, friend, you're blessed compared with me! Only present dangers make you flee: But, ouch! , behind me I can see grim prospects drear! While forward-looking seers, we humans guess and fear! To a Louse by Robert Burns translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Hey! Where're you going, you crawling hair-fly? Your impudence protects you, barely; I can only say that you swagger rarely Over gauze and lace. Though faith! I fear you dine but sparely In such a place. You ugly, creeping, blasted wonder, Detested, shunned by both saint and sinner, How dare you set your feet upon her— So fine a lady! Go somewhere else to seek your dinner On some poor body. Off! around some beggar's temple shamble: There you may creep, and sprawl, and scramble, With other kindred, jumping cattle, In shoals and nations; Where horn nor bone never dare unsettle Your thick plantations. Now hold you there! You're out of sight, Below the folderols, snug and tight; No, faith just yet! You'll not be right, Till you've got on it: The very topmost, towering height Of miss's bonnet. My word! right bold you root, contrary, As plump and gray as any gooseberry. Oh, for some rank, mercurial resin, Or dread red poison; I'd give you such a hearty dose, flea, It'd dress your noggin! I wouldn't be surprised to spy You on some housewife's flannel tie: Or maybe on some ragged boy's Pale undervest; But Miss's finest bonnet! Fie! How dare you jest? Oh Jenny, do not toss your head, And lash your lovely braids abroad! You hardly know what cursed speed The creature's making! Those winks and finger-ends, I dread, Are notice-taking! O would some Power with vision teach us To see ourselves as others see us! It would from many a blunder free us, And foolish notions: What airs in dress and carriage would leave us, And even devotion! Auld Lang Syne by Robert Burns translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Should old acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should old acquaintance be forgot, And days for which we pine? For times we shared, my darling, Days passed, once yours and mine, We'll raise a cup of kindness yet, To those fond-remembered times! Have you ever wondered just exactly what you're singing? 'Auld lang syne' means something like 'times gone by' or 'times long since passed' and in the context of the song means something like 'times long since passed that we shared together and now remember fondly.' In my translation, which is not word-for-word, I try to communicate what I believe Burns was trying to communicate: raising a toast to fond recollections of times shared in the past. Banks of Doon by Robert Burns translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Oh, banks and hills of lovely Doon, How can you bloom so fresh and fair; How can you chant, diminutive birds, When I'm so weary, full of care! You'll break my heart, small warblers, Flittering through the flowering thorn: Reminding me of long-lost joys, Departed—never to return! I've often wandered lovely Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine; And as the lark sang of its love, Just as fondly, I sang of mine. Then gaily-hearted I plucked a rose, So fragrant upon its thorny tree; And my false lover stole my rose, But, ah! , he left the thorn in me. The poem 'Comin Thro the Rye' by Robert Burns may be best-known today because of Holden Caulfield's misinterpretation of it in The Catcher in the Rye. In the book, Caulfield relates his fantasy to his sister, Phoebe: he's the 'catcher in the rye, ' rescuing children from falling from a cliff. Phoebe corrects him, pointing out that poem is not about a 'catcher' in the rye, but about a girl who has met someone in the rye for a kiss (or more) , got her underclothes wet (not for the first time) , and is dragging her way back to a polite (i.e., Puritanical) society that despises girls who are 'easy.' Robert Burns, an honest man, was exhibiting empathy for girls who were castigated for doing what all the boys and men longed to do themselves. Comin Thro the Rye by Robert Burns modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch O, Jenny's a' weet, poor body, // Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body, Jenny's seldom dry; // Jenny's seldom dry; She draigl't a' her petticoattie // She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin thro' the rye. // Comin' through the rye. Comin thro the rye, poor body, // Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin thro the rye, // Comin' through the rye. She draigl't a'her petticoatie, // She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin thro the rye! // Comin' through the rye. Gin a body meet a body // Should a body meet a body Comin thro the rye, // Comin' through the rye, Gin a body kiss a body, // Should a body kiss a body, Need a body cry? // Need anybody cry? Comin thro the rye, poor body, // Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin thro the rye, // Comin' through the rye. She draigl't a'her petticoatie, // She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin thro the rye! // Comin' through the rye. Gin a body meet a body // Should a body meet a body Comin thro the glen, // Comin' through the glen, Gin a body kiss a body, // Should a body kiss a body, Need the warld ken? // Need all the world know, then? Comin thro the rye, poor body, // Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin thro the rye, // Comin' through the rye. She draigl't a'her petticoatie, // She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin thro the rye! // Comin' through the rye. A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Oh my luve is like a red, red rose // Oh, my love is like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June: // that's newly sprung in June Oh my luve is like the melodie // and my love is like the melody That's sweetly play'd in tune. // that's sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonie lass, // And you're so fair, my lovely lass, So deep in luve am I; // and so deep in love am I, And I will luve thee still, my dear, // that I will love you still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. // till all the seas run dry. Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, // Till all the seas run dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun; // and the rocks melt with the sun! And I will luve thee still, my dear, // And I will love you still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run. // while the sands of life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only luve! // And fare you well, my only love! And fare thee weel a while! // And fare you well, awhile! And I will come again, my luve, // And I will come again, my love, Tho' it were ten thousand mile! // though it were ten thousand miles! Keywords/Tags: Scot, Scotland, Scottish poem, modern English translation, translations, Robert Burns, William Dunbar, William Soutar, Hugh MacDiarmid
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Hwenne, och! slawlie IT, an’ unco Licht! Afoyr th' wounded frae Lyife Ghaist-Ancestors, At Calanais Stane Sirkill Auld, an’ Verra IT, Micht! Wae th' Lost ay! o'er Deep Tyme Unforgivin’, Hidden Bleezan ay, Sacrificial Rite at Myrk Nicht! Th' Stowed Oot Moon Conquerin’ rayses IT, tae mee! Amydde Thae Verra Bluish, cannae nowe ye a' see? Cauld Cluds ay flashin', an' Verra Thay A' Hye! Ainlie, ainlie Raw Rid Bridie sloch Ah! NVNC RVBRA CLARO FVLMINE REFVLGENS LVNA QVIA REDACTA EST AD FVLGOREM RES RVBRA TOTALITER INTRA SACRVM CIRCVLVS VICTRIX MIHI VBI REX INVICTVS AC MAXIME VLTOR OVERMAN RVBRO LAPIDI CVM MAGNO NECNON PHANTASMATE ALTA HIC FLAMMA POTENTER ADVENIT RVBRA.
0
Feb 11, 2022
Feb 11, 2022 at 5:11 AM UTC
hermes-varini
Wlf
Hwenne, och! slawlie IT, an’ unco Licht! Afoyr th' wounded frae Lyife Ghaist-Ancestors, At Calanais Stane Sirkill Auld, an’ Verra IT, Micht! Wae th' Lost ay! o'er Deep Tyme Unforgivin’, Hidden Bleezan ay, Sacrificial Rite at Myrk Nicht! Th' Stowed Oot Moon Conquerin’ rayses IT, tae mee! Amydde Thae Verra Bluish, cannae nowe ye a' see? Cauld Cluds ay flashin', an' Verra Thay A' Hye! Ainlie, ainlie Raw Rid Bridie sloch Ah! NVNC RVBRA CLARO FVLMINE REFVLGENS LVNA QVIA REDACTA EST AD FVLGOREM RES RVBRA TOTALITER INTRA SACRVM CIRCVLVS VICTRIX MIHI VBI REX INVICTVS AC MAXIME VLTOR OVERMAN RVBRO LAPIDI CVM MAGNO NECNON PHANTASMATE ALTA HIC FLAMMA POTENTER ADVENIT RVBRA.
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ÆFRE SWĀ DÆGES, ĪSERNUM-BORDHREÓÐUM GRYRELÉOÐ OND HLÉOÞCWIDE SWĀ!  FÉÐEWÍGUM SĒ EFTCYME! SWĀ SĒ WIELM BLŌD! Thae Verra Wordis o' Battle Auld! an' Verra Prelude War-Hye o' mine!  Tae ye a' ageyne tell Ah! afor yondir Forgotten Myrk Whunstane! Fore cannae ye a' see? frae ma Verra Vision, Thais Immortal Battle-Landis,  Fore let mee Thais War-Sange, ne'er tae e'er, wi'in Anie Quiet Loch, wane! Nowe ageyne, weall! thro' Hye-Boilin' Steel-Bluid Eternal Ȝell: Cauld an' Feudal Battle-Yeir, Sacral o' mine A.D. MXVII hynne!  Let mee weall, weall! stick-an-stowe intae Thais Deep Past Bluid-Fyre,  O'er Thais Hoat Airn, ma Guid Auld Swaird Feathfull!  Ays a Distinct War-Vision Ah nowe stylle see! unco radiatin',  Dogydder wae Thad Bygane Shower o' Arrows nowe ay War-Invisible: MĪN HEAÐUWÆD! An' afore Thae Hye Lowes! ma Stane-Hearth, nowe hynne remember,  Fore ageyne! ay maun nowe Thais Bluid-Vision o' mine tallid unco Ah!  Ays Supreme Fyre-Wylle! o'er an' 'yont th' Cauld Lang Hame,  Meanie Feudal Towmonts ago, hynne, wae ma Airn-Wame,  An' th' War-Mask o'er ma Swaird-Cut Cheek Bane Unco haiwin', a Feudal Rebel an' Wulde Brooch-Wearer, Ah! DOLHWUND OND BORDRANDE,  EFT WLWULF SWIÞE WÆS IC! Intae CARHAM'S BATTLE MAYHEM AULD! an' th' Scyld-Horror Ne'er, IT! thro' th' Murky Moorlan Nicht tae unco wane!  Wae ITS Open Jaws, an' Het Braith, an' Whyte Teeth Dazzlin',  Thro' Thoosan Cries Norland an' Clashes Micht hynne!  Frae Thoosan Battle-Scheldes unco Wooden-Colorful Thay A'! BORDWUDA MĪN HRÍÐ, Across yondir Scyld-Wauch found masell hynne Ah!  Verra, Verra Guid Vision! Verra, Verra Guid Wunner! NORÐÞUNRES SCIELDWEALL, An' th' Steel-Spirit, verra Gleamin' IT unco haiwin' Thad deep thro' ma Battle-Veins in Deep Moorlan Gore,  Yondir! o'er Thae Blacklyn Hylles, wae ma Guid Claymore-Lore: LĪEĠÞRACUM NÆGLING! Ays a Storne Micht! Þenne an' nowe stylle unco flowed,  Hwenne, IT! Great Þunor's an' Bauds' Warlike Orrah!  Th' Daye-Luminarie at ITS Zenith-Trune Sacral,  Verra, Verra Hye IT! waes, wae Rid Lowes Invincible In nae, nae hynne! Hye Skye-Agony dwellin': ĒACEN DÆGSCIELD, Invisible, IT! intae Thae Deep Cauld Norland Skyes Whare Thais Sunne! allwayes unco owre Wee,  O'er Thais Horizon Harsh an' Warlike an' Dreary Wae Fiery Skye-Dignity Primordial unco rules,  Hwenne, IT! weall, weall Ah nowe stylle in Fyre Thad see! STĪELENE GLYDERING, Great Kvaysir's Orrah! th' Swaird-Hurt Schawdu!  HYS Ghastly Apparition o'er Whin-Rock devastatingly makyt Wae HYS Bluid Mirk! downe, downe! descendin',  Hwenne, IT! ****** Hel's Guid Battle Orrah!  Th' Enraged Ocean spake nae, nae IT laanger! OFERȲÞUM BRIMRAD, Wae HYS Whispered Woirds o' War intae HYS Storne Rageful,  Hwenne hynne, at length IT! Airn an' Guid Thundir's Orrah!  Th' Gore Sacrificial o' thoosan enemies o' mine!  Quhame faced a' Ah! th' Lone Wolf-Feeder! ay nae Age-Worn!  Wae ma War-Blade Dearest, THOROLF GIED called: DYNGES BEADULÉOMA! Red-Boilin' IT becam! an' frae Cauld Horizon tae Cauld Horizon extendin',  An' Þenne a Vortex Feudal o' Coagulatin' Energy Micht!  Indistinguishable frae thais Battle-Mass frae Auld Carham, A LONE CRIMSON WAR-FIGURE UNCO MICHT WAE THAIS BOILIN' BLUID BATTLE-SACRIFICIAL UNCO! IN WAR-GORE PERENNIAL MAKYT!  FRAE THAIS CAULD PROWID BATTLE-LANDIS O'ER A'! TAE TH' WOUNDED SKYES HYE SOARIN' WHA'S FEUDAL NAIM GORY, TH' OWAR-MANN!  AYS WYLLE O' MINE BLUID-INCARNATED!  FRAE DEEP TH' BYGANE, TOWARDIS YONDIR FUTURE,  NOWE AFORE MINE SCARS O' WAR WAES O'ER AN' O'ER, GUID BRUNANBURH'S ORRAH!  TAE MEE! WAE MA SOLITARYE VISION WAR-BLINDED UNCO RETURNIN', Weall Ah hynne remember! An' nowe play mair, mair for mee!  Yer Steel-Lyre Auld Wise! Fore Ah e'en mair distinctly see!  Thro' Wreaths o' Bluid-Vapor Sacrificial, th' Heat o' th' Strywe!  Theare cam forth, Ah say, an' TH' THYNGE! soared, unco free, HEAHÞRYM OND DRĒOR-HÉAHSÆ, O'er Thais Swaird-Encounter an' a' th' fallen afore mine eyes,  Bye wha's Naim neither Ullr in Airn Enraged hynne,  Nor Kvaysir Micht! nor Auld Vargs Unda gleamin' Nor o' Hôm Loga Himna Hye! waes IT called,  An' IT swayed nae, o'er th' Battle-Mass Gory! CAMPWÍGES CWEALMDRÉOR, Nor thro' HYS Feudal Bluid soarin', IT spake in any Battle-Ȝell,  An' theare IT unco remained! o'er Thais Perennial o' mine Swaird-Hel: MĪN GEMYNDIG GIET ÞUNRODE! Wha's HYS ROUND SCYLD O' WAR held hye! towardis th' Sunne!  A Continual Lowe o' Dense Fyre hynne a' gatherin', an' a Luminous Rain frae th' Zenith-Sunne Invisible, thad waes IT WAE REASON THUNDIR-FORCE A' STEERIN',  DAZZLIN' LIGHTNIN' PERENNIAL A' CONQUERIN',  TAE TH' INFINITE ITS WAR-BLUID INCREASIN',  O'ER TH' SCYLD O' TH' OWAR-MANN AYS A FYRE-RAY AN' MICHT STAR FLASHIN',  AN' IN FEUDAL AIRN DWELLIN', Hwenne! HYS Substance frae Bluid Sacrificial intae Gleamin' Steel turned,  Thro' Loud Cries frae th' Battle thad stylle heard Ah: WULFUM BEARHTM! Stylle Liquid Metal o' War Dazzlin'! Feudal Wapin Formidable!  Weaponized Airn-Soul Fetch'in-Micht o' mine!  Wha's naim, in loud cries stylle! ays a BLINDIN' STAR O' WAR SUPREME, HEOFONSTEORRA-GEBYLD, Frae th' Remote Zone Mirk o' th' Luminous Skye nowe appearin' Waes! Þenne Distinct a Titan Steel-Colossal IT becam,  Whileas Thae Auld Woirds o' War Whispered Thay! BLÓDWRACU, Wee, ewyre-remembered, an' nae at a' Damnable Thay!  Thad winna Thay a' ne'er, ne'er fade awa! stylle Wi'in ear o' mine thro' th' Whooshin' Wynde An' o'er th' whole Kintra rulin', stick-an'-stowe felt Ah: ENDELĒAS MANFULTUM OND MÆGENÞISE MĪN GEWILL ÆT SĒ ŌFER-MANN BIÞ,  FORWEARD OND ÆGHWÆR STÍELE SWĀ,  ÞA ÍSENWYRHTAN SĒ ŌFER-MANN, Th' Frame! The Verra Frame o' Hye Conquerin' Steel-Feudal!  Frae yondir Norþan-hymbre auld an' verra colorful!  Wae th' War-Blade Bleezan intae deep Thais Battle-Storne,  Th' Scarred in th' Cheek! th' Lone Scyld-Fighter: BORDHREÓÐAN SCEADUGENGA OND WRECEND! Nowe unco! Great Orrah! o' Soarin' War-Airn Empowered!  Wi'in Thoosan Hye Skye-Clashes! Wi'in Thoosan Onslaughts, A' Rairan o' mine!  Tae nowe in Airn schawe ye a'! HYE HEL: EFTWYRD-GEWILL OND ÆLÍFES GEWIDERE,  MĪN HEOFONFYRE WÆPENÞRACU!  NU LÍGETSLIEHTUM SĒ ÞEGN,  SWĀ STÍELE ĒACEN SĒ ŌFER-MANN, Frae th' Bygane ays allwayis a Blank intae th' Gore dabbed,  Towardis th' Future ays allwayis a Dangerus Landis!  Whare th' cowardly enemies allwayis lurk an' await: BEADOLEÓMAN UNWEORÐE! Th' same wae TH' WYLLE TAE TH' HYE OVERMAN waes!  Richte Nowe! Thais Steel-Titan Micht afore mine eyes O'er th' corpses o' th' fallen an' intae th' Core-Fyre Sacrificial Thad HYS SOLAR SCYLD held hye! stylle receivin' IT waes: AHWÆR OND BALDLICE,  EFT HEAÐUSIGLES ÁNWÍG, Fore willin' th' Bygane ays IT haes bin in th' Overman Hye!  Th' future ays empowered in HYS Feudal Person waes tae,  Fore Willin' waes, IT! willin' th' Person o' Overman alone!  Lyke a Verra Destination Tangible o' mine, IT!  Intae thais Colossus o' Battle-Gore boilin' ays Cast Steel, Thad Wylle! ÞYRSUM HEAÐUWÆD, Thad th' Rational Firey Ah say, Continuum o' Lowes waes IT haudin!  Wpon th' Scyld o'er an' o'er Flashin' IT, hynne Steel-Crucial!  Increasin' IT! ITS Force Micht an' the Ray! tae th' Endless Skye!  An' th' Frame! Th' Verra Noble Frame IRONCLAD-FEUDAL! AD ALTA SIDERA INVICTO METALLO NUPER SUPREMUM ARTIFICIUM BELLI FLAMMISQUE CORPUS EXTRAMUNDANUM QUOD GEWILL OVERMAN NUNC NOMINATUR ERIT FERRO MAGNO SANGUINEQUE ET SCUTO IN PROELIO APUD CAMPUM CARHAM RUBRA VEXILLA REDITUS IGNEA SPIRAQUE INVICTO METALLO VOLUNTAS MEA, Fore, ageyne! Beguid Great, Great Orrah!  Th' willin' Ane Thynge waes! wae Thais Steel-Titan O'erhuman!  Thad GEWILL OVERMAN o'er Carham's Gory Landis waes IT called Auld: SWEOLUNGA OND ÆLINGUM SWIÞE SWĀ!  ÞÆR MĪN GLOWENDE-ÆDREGEARD ĀRĀS, Fore, ageyne! Great Glamis' Wae Orrah!  Willin' backiewards th' Bygane ays IT allwayis in Gore haes bin,  Waes IT! willin'th' Overman ays nae laanger a Blank an' a War-Cauld: HEÁFODWYLME OND SWEOLOÐAN HLEO! Fore, ageyne! Þunores Fair an' Wounded Orrah!  Willin' th' Bygane ays Want o' Pow'r waes willin' th' future ays Pow'r,  Intae th' Verra Steel-Person o' Thais O'erhuman Steel-Avenger untold: SĒ ĪSERN-HEREWÆÐA, Fore, ageyne! Dagur's Guid Orrah o' mine!  Willin' backiewards intae th' Tyme Irreversible, hynne unco Unforgivin' IT!  Waes IT! willin' th' future ays Skye-Empowered nowe!  Intae th' Person o' th' Overman Thais Steel-Titan o'er th' Scyld-Wa Micht,  Thro' th' Spiral-Continuum thad Becomin' ays Increase in Pow'r waes:  TH' SEL-RETURNIN' RAY CONDENSATIN' FYRE-JOYFUL: FULLMÆGENES BRYNELEÓMA, WPON TH' COLOSSAL SCYLD HELD IT, wae th' arm VERRA HYE!  Fore ageyne! Devastatin' frae Cauld Thule Orrah!  Th' bygane intae th' Airn-Person o' th' Overman ays IT haes bin!  Must be IT willed! Fore thus different IT shall agyne be!  Ays empow'red intae th' Central an' unco Firey-Abysmal IT,  An' wae Rid Lowes hynne Rid! Return o' Pow'r Event: BÆLÞRACE WUDUROSE! Firm Thynge! an' Verra Core wi'in continual Becomin' ays Pow'r,  Fore, ageyne! Thoosan Thundirs' Skye-Orrah!  Tae affirm Lyife tae affirm th' OVERMAN nesisarie IT waes!  Ays Wylle Superior, hynne True Wylle IT provin'!  Ma Final Inner Strength! Ma Ultimate Inner Vision! ÞUNORUM OND BEADWE GRYRELÉOÐE,  MĪN WIGSIGOR-GESIHÐNES HLÍFEDE! Thad ainlie Thais Steel-Jǫtunn o' War cannae, wi'in Battle-Lowes Hye!  Across Auld Carham's Colorful, verra Colorful Scyld Wa Micht nae be!  BREIÐØX-DRENGR ÆN ATGANGA! Frae th' Past allwayis bleedin'! intae th' Future allwayis Dangerus!  An' nae for a' wi'in th' Great Spiral o' Strife, o'er th' Battlefield Ah nowe stylle see, Thais Steel-Spirit unco waes! ÁGLÆCAN WUNDORSÉON, HĀL!  NU MĪN FEORHBOLD BRǢDEÞ SWIÞE,  RANDWÍGA WÆS IC! SĒ BISENE WRECEND!  SWURD ON HANDA! HEORU-DRĒORE NACOD!  HILDE-GRĪMAN! RÝNE STÍELE OND CRÆFTUM BEADU WÆPEN, BRYNEWELMES STÁNTORR,  HEAÐUWYLME OND STIELE SWĀ,  GEWILL ÆT SĒ ŌFER-MANN HÂTEN, Þenne, och! Great Guid Orrah! Tae nae mere War-Legend nowe fullefylle!  Let mee ma Vision lastly recollect! THRIE SKYE-GLOBES O' SKYE-FYRE Fwlle!  Tae ma Battle-Scarred Sight appeared out-owre th' Conquerin' Sunne!  Intimately blended Thay A'! intae Thais Soarin' Metal-Fusion Gleamin' stylle:  TH' OVERMAN! AN' TH' BEIN' AYS POW'R, unco Magnificent Thynge!  AN' TH' RETURN AYS INCREASE IN POW'R! a Reingȝe formin' o'er yondir Hylle!  Flashin' A' Thay! wae Thais STEEL-TITAN ays hynne ma Verra Guid Battle-Wylle! GEGYLDEN HRINCG GEWILLE!
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Feb 10, 2022
Feb 10, 2022 at 4:46 AM UTC
hermes-varini
Gewill Overman
ÆFRE SWĀ DÆGES, ĪSERNUM-BORDHREÓÐUM GRYRELÉOÐ OND HLÉOÞCWIDE SWĀ!  FÉÐEWÍGUM SĒ EFTCYME! SWĀ SĒ WIELM BLŌD! Thae Verra Wordis o' Battle Auld! an' Verra Prelude War-Hye o' mine!  Tae ye a' ageyne tell Ah! afor yondir Forgotten Myrk Whunstane! Fore cannae ye a' see? frae ma Verra Vision, Thais Immortal Battle-Landis,  Fore let mee Thais War-Sange, ne'er tae e'er, wi'in Anie Quiet Loch, wane! Nowe ageyne, weall! thro' Hye-Boilin' Steel-Bluid Eternal Ȝell: Cauld an' Feudal Battle-Yeir, Sacral o' mine A.D. MXVII hynne!  Let mee weall, weall! stick-an-stowe intae Thais Deep Past Bluid-Fyre,  O'er Thais Hoat Airn, ma Guid Auld Swaird Feathfull!  Ays a Distinct War-Vision Ah nowe stylle see! unco radiatin',  Dogydder wae Thad Bygane Shower o' Arrows nowe ay War-Invisible: MĪN HEAÐUWÆD! An' afore Thae Hye Lowes! ma Stane-Hearth, nowe hynne remember,  Fore ageyne! ay maun nowe Thais Bluid-Vision o' mine tallid unco Ah!  Ays Supreme Fyre-Wylle! o'er an' 'yont th' Cauld Lang Hame,  Meanie Feudal Towmonts ago, hynne, wae ma Airn-Wame,  An' th' War-Mask o'er ma Swaird-Cut Cheek Bane Unco haiwin', a Feudal Rebel an' Wulde Brooch-Wearer, Ah! DOLHWUND OND BORDRANDE,  EFT WLWULF SWIÞE WÆS IC! Intae CARHAM'S BATTLE MAYHEM AULD! an' th' Scyld-Horror Ne'er, IT! thro' th' Murky Moorlan Nicht tae unco wane!  Wae ITS Open Jaws, an' Het Braith, an' Whyte Teeth Dazzlin',  Thro' Thoosan Cries Norland an' Clashes Micht hynne!  Frae Thoosan Battle-Scheldes unco Wooden-Colorful Thay A'! BORDWUDA MĪN HRÍÐ, Across yondir Scyld-Wauch found masell hynne Ah!  Verra, Verra Guid Vision! Verra, Verra Guid Wunner! NORÐÞUNRES SCIELDWEALL, An' th' Steel-Spirit, verra Gleamin' IT unco haiwin' Thad deep thro' ma Battle-Veins in Deep Moorlan Gore,  Yondir! o'er Thae Blacklyn Hylles, wae ma Guid Claymore-Lore: LĪEĠÞRACUM NÆGLING! Ays a Storne Micht! Þenne an' nowe stylle unco flowed,  Hwenne, IT! Great Þunor's an' Bauds' Warlike Orrah!  Th' Daye-Luminarie at ITS Zenith-Trune Sacral,  Verra, Verra Hye IT! waes, wae Rid Lowes Invincible In nae, nae hynne! Hye Skye-Agony dwellin': ĒACEN DÆGSCIELD, Invisible, IT! intae Thae Deep Cauld Norland Skyes Whare Thais Sunne! allwayes unco owre Wee,  O'er Thais Horizon Harsh an' Warlike an' Dreary Wae Fiery Skye-Dignity Primordial unco rules,  Hwenne, IT! weall, weall Ah nowe stylle in Fyre Thad see! STĪELENE GLYDERING, Great Kvaysir's Orrah! th' Swaird-Hurt Schawdu!  HYS Ghastly Apparition o'er Whin-Rock devastatingly makyt Wae HYS Bluid Mirk! downe, downe! descendin',  Hwenne, IT! ****** Hel's Guid Battle Orrah!  Th' Enraged Ocean spake nae, nae IT laanger! OFERȲÞUM BRIMRAD, Wae HYS Whispered Woirds o' War intae HYS Storne Rageful,  Hwenne hynne, at length IT! Airn an' Guid Thundir's Orrah!  Th' Gore Sacrificial o' thoosan enemies o' mine!  Quhame faced a' Ah! th' Lone Wolf-Feeder! ay nae Age-Worn!  Wae ma War-Blade Dearest, THOROLF GIED called: DYNGES BEADULÉOMA! Red-Boilin' IT becam! an' frae Cauld Horizon tae Cauld Horizon extendin',  An' Þenne a Vortex Feudal o' Coagulatin' Energy Micht!  Indistinguishable frae thais Battle-Mass frae Auld Carham, A LONE CRIMSON WAR-FIGURE UNCO MICHT WAE THAIS BOILIN' BLUID BATTLE-SACRIFICIAL UNCO! IN WAR-GORE PERENNIAL MAKYT!  FRAE THAIS CAULD PROWID BATTLE-LANDIS O'ER A'! TAE TH' WOUNDED SKYES HYE SOARIN' WHA'S FEUDAL NAIM GORY, TH' OWAR-MANN!  AYS WYLLE O' MINE BLUID-INCARNATED!  FRAE DEEP TH' BYGANE, TOWARDIS YONDIR FUTURE,  NOWE AFORE MINE SCARS O' WAR WAES O'ER AN' O'ER, GUID BRUNANBURH'S ORRAH!  TAE MEE! WAE MA SOLITARYE VISION WAR-BLINDED UNCO RETURNIN', Weall Ah hynne remember! An' nowe play mair, mair for mee!  Yer Steel-Lyre Auld Wise! Fore Ah e'en mair distinctly see!  Thro' Wreaths o' Bluid-Vapor Sacrificial, th' Heat o' th' Strywe!  Theare cam forth, Ah say, an' TH' THYNGE! soared, unco free, HEAHÞRYM OND DRĒOR-HÉAHSÆ, O'er Thais Swaird-Encounter an' a' th' fallen afore mine eyes,  Bye wha's Naim neither Ullr in Airn Enraged hynne,  Nor Kvaysir Micht! nor Auld Vargs Unda gleamin' Nor o' Hôm Loga Himna Hye! waes IT called,  An' IT swayed nae, o'er th' Battle-Mass Gory! CAMPWÍGES CWEALMDRÉOR, Nor thro' HYS Feudal Bluid soarin', IT spake in any Battle-Ȝell,  An' theare IT unco remained! o'er Thais Perennial o' mine Swaird-Hel: MĪN GEMYNDIG GIET ÞUNRODE! Wha's HYS ROUND SCYLD O' WAR held hye! towardis th' Sunne!  A Continual Lowe o' Dense Fyre hynne a' gatherin', an' a Luminous Rain frae th' Zenith-Sunne Invisible, thad waes IT WAE REASON THUNDIR-FORCE A' STEERIN',  DAZZLIN' LIGHTNIN' PERENNIAL A' CONQUERIN',  TAE TH' INFINITE ITS WAR-BLUID INCREASIN',  O'ER TH' SCYLD O' TH' OWAR-MANN AYS A FYRE-RAY AN' MICHT STAR FLASHIN',  AN' IN FEUDAL AIRN DWELLIN', Hwenne! HYS Substance frae Bluid Sacrificial intae Gleamin' Steel turned,  Thro' Loud Cries frae th' Battle thad stylle heard Ah: WULFUM BEARHTM! Stylle Liquid Metal o' War Dazzlin'! Feudal Wapin Formidable!  Weaponized Airn-Soul Fetch'in-Micht o' mine!  Wha's naim, in loud cries stylle! ays a BLINDIN' STAR O' WAR SUPREME, HEOFONSTEORRA-GEBYLD, Frae th' Remote Zone Mirk o' th' Luminous Skye nowe appearin' Waes! Þenne Distinct a Titan Steel-Colossal IT becam,  Whileas Thae Auld Woirds o' War Whispered Thay! BLÓDWRACU, Wee, ewyre-remembered, an' nae at a' Damnable Thay!  Thad winna Thay a' ne'er, ne'er fade awa! stylle Wi'in ear o' mine thro' th' Whooshin' Wynde An' o'er th' whole Kintra rulin', stick-an'-stowe felt Ah: ENDELĒAS MANFULTUM OND MÆGENÞISE MĪN GEWILL ÆT SĒ ŌFER-MANN BIÞ,  FORWEARD OND ÆGHWÆR STÍELE SWĀ,  ÞA ÍSENWYRHTAN SĒ ŌFER-MANN, Th' Frame! The Verra Frame o' Hye Conquerin' Steel-Feudal!  Frae yondir Norþan-hymbre auld an' verra colorful!  Wae th' War-Blade Bleezan intae deep Thais Battle-Storne,  Th' Scarred in th' Cheek! th' Lone Scyld-Fighter: BORDHREÓÐAN SCEADUGENGA OND WRECEND! Nowe unco! Great Orrah! o' Soarin' War-Airn Empowered!  Wi'in Thoosan Hye Skye-Clashes! Wi'in Thoosan Onslaughts, A' Rairan o' mine!  Tae nowe in Airn schawe ye a'! HYE HEL: EFTWYRD-GEWILL OND ÆLÍFES GEWIDERE,  MĪN HEOFONFYRE WÆPENÞRACU!  NU LÍGETSLIEHTUM SĒ ÞEGN,  SWĀ STÍELE ĒACEN SĒ ŌFER-MANN, Frae th' Bygane ays allwayis a Blank intae th' Gore dabbed,  Towardis th' Future ays allwayis a Dangerus Landis!  Whare th' cowardly enemies allwayis lurk an' await: BEADOLEÓMAN UNWEORÐE! Th' same wae TH' WYLLE TAE TH' HYE OVERMAN waes!  Richte Nowe! Thais Steel-Titan Micht afore mine eyes O'er th' corpses o' th' fallen an' intae th' Core-Fyre Sacrificial Thad HYS SOLAR SCYLD held hye! stylle receivin' IT waes: AHWÆR OND BALDLICE,  EFT HEAÐUSIGLES ÁNWÍG, Fore willin' th' Bygane ays IT haes bin in th' Overman Hye!  Th' future ays empowered in HYS Feudal Person waes tae,  Fore Willin' waes, IT! willin' th' Person o' Overman alone!  Lyke a Verra Destination Tangible o' mine, IT!  Intae thais Colossus o' Battle-Gore boilin' ays Cast Steel, Thad Wylle! ÞYRSUM HEAÐUWÆD, Thad th' Rational Firey Ah say, Continuum o' Lowes waes IT haudin!  Wpon th' Scyld o'er an' o'er Flashin' IT, hynne Steel-Crucial!  Increasin' IT! ITS Force Micht an' the Ray! tae th' Endless Skye!  An' th' Frame! Th' Verra Noble Frame IRONCLAD-FEUDAL! AD ALTA SIDERA INVICTO METALLO NUPER SUPREMUM ARTIFICIUM BELLI FLAMMISQUE CORPUS EXTRAMUNDANUM QUOD GEWILL OVERMAN NUNC NOMINATUR ERIT FERRO MAGNO SANGUINEQUE ET SCUTO IN PROELIO APUD CAMPUM CARHAM RUBRA VEXILLA REDITUS IGNEA SPIRAQUE INVICTO METALLO VOLUNTAS MEA, Fore, ageyne! Beguid Great, Great Orrah!  Th' willin' Ane Thynge waes! wae Thais Steel-Titan O'erhuman!  Thad GEWILL OVERMAN o'er Carham's Gory Landis waes IT called Auld: SWEOLUNGA OND ÆLINGUM SWIÞE SWĀ!  ÞÆR MĪN GLOWENDE-ÆDREGEARD ĀRĀS, Fore, ageyne! Great Glamis' Wae Orrah!  Willin' backiewards th' Bygane ays IT allwayis in Gore haes bin,  Waes IT! willin'th' Overman ays nae laanger a Blank an' a War-Cauld: HEÁFODWYLME OND SWEOLOÐAN HLEO! Fore, ageyne! Þunores Fair an' Wounded Orrah!  Willin' th' Bygane ays Want o' Pow'r waes willin' th' future ays Pow'r,  Intae th' Verra Steel-Person o' Thais O'erhuman Steel-Avenger untold: SĒ ĪSERN-HEREWÆÐA, Fore, ageyne! Dagur's Guid Orrah o' mine!  Willin' backiewards intae th' Tyme Irreversible, hynne unco Unforgivin' IT!  Waes IT! willin' th' future ays Skye-Empowered nowe!  Intae th' Person o' th' Overman Thais Steel-Titan o'er th' Scyld-Wa Micht,  Thro' th' Spiral-Continuum thad Becomin' ays Increase in Pow'r waes:  TH' SEL-RETURNIN' RAY CONDENSATIN' FYRE-JOYFUL: FULLMÆGENES BRYNELEÓMA, WPON TH' COLOSSAL SCYLD HELD IT, wae th' arm VERRA HYE!  Fore ageyne! Devastatin' frae Cauld Thule Orrah!  Th' bygane intae th' Airn-Person o' th' Overman ays IT haes bin!  Must be IT willed! Fore thus different IT shall agyne be!  Ays empow'red intae th' Central an' unco Firey-Abysmal IT,  An' wae Rid Lowes hynne Rid! Return o' Pow'r Event: BÆLÞRACE WUDUROSE! Firm Thynge! an' Verra Core wi'in continual Becomin' ays Pow'r,  Fore, ageyne! Thoosan Thundirs' Skye-Orrah!  Tae affirm Lyife tae affirm th' OVERMAN nesisarie IT waes!  Ays Wylle Superior, hynne True Wylle IT provin'!  Ma Final Inner Strength! Ma Ultimate Inner Vision! ÞUNORUM OND BEADWE GRYRELÉOÐE,  MĪN WIGSIGOR-GESIHÐNES HLÍFEDE! Thad ainlie Thais Steel-Jǫtunn o' War cannae, wi'in Battle-Lowes Hye!  Across Auld Carham's Colorful, verra Colorful Scyld Wa Micht nae be!  BREIÐØX-DRENGR ÆN ATGANGA! Frae th' Past allwayis bleedin'! intae th' Future allwayis Dangerus!  An' nae for a' wi'in th' Great Spiral o' Strife, o'er th' Battlefield Ah nowe stylle see, Thais Steel-Spirit unco waes! ÁGLÆCAN WUNDORSÉON, HĀL!  NU MĪN FEORHBOLD BRǢDEÞ SWIÞE,  RANDWÍGA WÆS IC! SĒ BISENE WRECEND!  SWURD ON HANDA! HEORU-DRĒORE NACOD!  HILDE-GRĪMAN! RÝNE STÍELE OND CRÆFTUM BEADU WÆPEN, BRYNEWELMES STÁNTORR,  HEAÐUWYLME OND STIELE SWĀ,  GEWILL ÆT SĒ ŌFER-MANN HÂTEN, Þenne, och! Great Guid Orrah! Tae nae mere War-Legend nowe fullefylle!  Let mee ma Vision lastly recollect! THRIE SKYE-GLOBES O' SKYE-FYRE Fwlle!  Tae ma Battle-Scarred Sight appeared out-owre th' Conquerin' Sunne!  Intimately blended Thay A'! intae Thais Soarin' Metal-Fusion Gleamin' stylle:  TH' OVERMAN! AN' TH' BEIN' AYS POW'R, unco Magnificent Thynge!  AN' TH' RETURN AYS INCREASE IN POW'R! a Reingȝe formin' o'er yondir Hylle!  Flashin' A' Thay! wae Thais STEEL-TITAN ays hynne ma Verra Guid Battle-Wylle! GEGYLDEN HRINCG GEWILLE!
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A Lone Walker nowe Ah! Intae Theis Murky Naycht ‘Yont Whin-Rock menacin’, Ewry Wound bygane an’ the Scar Freish Bluid o’ mine fuelin’, Lang, lang, IT! the Blacklyn Howr, Unfathomable, Unearthly, Verra Guid Fyre wearin’, Burnan Hye! Gore o’ mine Awa, awa, IT owre spilled! Soil o’ Alabaster gravin’, An’ abön, Great Orrah! a Presence yirr, Near-hand ay flashin’, Rumblin’, guid tremblin’, Lyke a Rhodium-Demon Hyear Unco! stick-an-stowe towerin’, An’ a Mirror-Vision ay broo! O’ Red Gore fuil an’ pruid! Great Rowth ragin’! Human nae, nae IT laanger! Heyne intae Theis Skye-Mirror, Image o’ mine! nae, nae IT laanger! Ma Rubye Brooch Micht, och! Stylle haiwin', An' wae Veins o’ Deep Lowe imbued, Ma ain stylle! Glamis’ Orrah! Dearest! Athwart ma Solitarye Gait Ays a Storm-Blast fallin’, An’ wnto me! wnto me noo, IT! O’er an’ o’er! Carham’s Scyld-Hel Orrah! Stylle Theis Dangerus! Verra Dangerus, IT! Highlan’ Thwndir-Rode o’ mine Intae Theis Guid Kintra whooshin’, An’ the nae ****** Cauld Landis Micht, Swaird-Wounded, stylle Ironclad Ah! Fore’er unco! wi’in Oun Hye Fyre Thro’ nae croud strollin’, Ays yf frae Hye Þunor His-sel The Lone War-Whisper Weel-Gaun! Wae Thae Verra Woirds o’ Battle-Angyr Lewdlie! Theis Specular Bluish Fyre o’ mine! Thus Thwndir-Taukin’: NUNC IN HOC SIGNO VINCES QUIA FOCUS TEMPESTATIS MODO EST TIBI ET VEXILLA FULMINIS PRODEUNT UNIVERSI IN FERRO CAERULEO SANGUINEQUE AD TE PICTORUM NOCTE TETRA ET IN SPECULO RESULTANTE FORMA THOR GOTHORUM UBI DESCENDET LAETO AB ULTIMA GLITNIR MAGNO MALLEO DEUS FLAVUS QUI ALTO FERRO SECURIQUE TONITRUO INDIGNAM VIAM MALEDIXIT FULMINIS IGITUR TETRA UMBRA TUA ALTA FLAMMA CALIGINEA VEXILLAQUE SUPREMO IGNE OVERMAN ULTOR.
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Jan 23, 2021
Jan 23, 2021 at 6:54 AM UTC
hermes-varini
Lone Walker
A Lone Walker nowe Ah! Intae Theis Murky Naycht ‘Yont Whin-Rock menacin’, Ewry Wound bygane an’ the Scar Freish Bluid o’ mine fuelin’, Lang, lang, IT! the Blacklyn Howr, Unfathomable, Unearthly, Verra Guid Fyre wearin’, Burnan Hye! Gore o’ mine Awa, awa, IT owre spilled! Soil o’ Alabaster gravin’, An’ abön, Great Orrah! a Presence yirr, Near-hand ay flashin’, Rumblin’, guid tremblin’, Lyke a Rhodium-Demon Hyear Unco! stick-an-stowe towerin’, An’ a Mirror-Vision ay broo! O’ Red Gore fuil an’ pruid! Great Rowth ragin’! Human nae, nae IT laanger! Heyne intae Theis Skye-Mirror, Image o’ mine! nae, nae IT laanger! Ma Rubye Brooch Micht, och! Stylle haiwin', An' wae Veins o’ Deep Lowe imbued, Ma ain stylle! Glamis’ Orrah! Dearest! Athwart ma Solitarye Gait Ays a Storm-Blast fallin’, An’ wnto me! wnto me noo, IT! O’er an’ o’er! Carham’s Scyld-Hel Orrah! Stylle Theis Dangerus! Verra Dangerus, IT! Highlan’ Thwndir-Rode o’ mine Intae Theis Guid Kintra whooshin’, An’ the nae ****** Cauld Landis Micht, Swaird-Wounded, stylle Ironclad Ah! Fore’er unco! wi’in Oun Hye Fyre Thro’ nae croud strollin’, Ays yf frae Hye Þunor His-sel The Lone War-Whisper Weel-Gaun! Wae Thae Verra Woirds o’ Battle-Angyr Lewdlie! Theis Specular Bluish Fyre o’ mine! Thus Thwndir-Taukin’: NUNC IN HOC SIGNO VINCES QUIA FOCUS TEMPESTATIS MODO EST TIBI ET VEXILLA FULMINIS PRODEUNT UNIVERSI IN FERRO CAERULEO SANGUINEQUE AD TE PICTORUM NOCTE TETRA ET IN SPECULO RESULTANTE FORMA THOR GOTHORUM UBI DESCENDET LAETO AB ULTIMA GLITNIR MAGNO MALLEO DEUS FLAVUS QUI ALTO FERRO SECURIQUE TONITRUO INDIGNAM VIAM MALEDIXIT FULMINIS IGITUR TETRA UMBRA TUA ALTA FLAMMA CALIGINEA VEXILLAQUE SUPREMO IGNE OVERMAN ULTOR.
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The Airn-Wanderer: WÆPEN WUNDUM SUNDORGENGA Waes Ah! Waes Ah, noo! Beguid! an’ Greatly, unco Greatly Hye, IT! Wi'in Abysmal-Deep Primal Fyre, IT! Great Fair Thor's Orrah! Lookin’ yondir! lookin’ yondir, noo! Afore avidly, unco avidly Drank hynne Ah! Great Warlike Orrah! The Gowblat o’ Noble Precious Gowd Shimmerin': Gleamin’ further, IT! Ane an' the Same, hynne! Wi' the Verra Glare frae Bein' o' Power Supreme! Gift Invincibly Purified IT, hynne! Thad Enraged Wotan’s ain Verra Chalice o’ mine, An’ Toast frae Hye-HEREHAND! Great, in Fyre Ragin' noo, Ullr's Orrah! Frae Noble Valhalla Rairan Deep Wi’ ITS Metal Fiery Soul, hynne! Orra Skye-Substance, orra Skye-Schorcin’ o’ mine! Noo, verra unco! Core-Martially stylle grabbin’, Wi’ Black Leather Glove O’ Total Dazzlin’, an' Verra, Verra ​Core-Abysmal, IT! Whyte-War, hynne! ÞUNORE HWÍT CEALLA, Fyre-Flowin’, the Verra Northumbrian Mead!   Livin’, Tasty wi’ Pow’r, Great Warlike Orrah! Niflheim-Watery, IT! BEADWE, MĪN SWÆTAN, Frae yon Ironclad Norþan-hymbre! Frae Hel Itself Delicious, Unco dyrinkin’, downe the hatch! Hynne Ah, My by-gone Days left orra Aflame: Great Vision! Great Bellum! noo dyin’ o’ mine! Whileas stylle waes hynne Ah! Thro’ the Bare Highlands Dreary, ‘Yont South Ruins’ Bluish Burnan Wa, Deep-Wanderin’, In search for the Verra Lightnin’ Raed, An' Flashin' Guide o' mine Devastatingly Immortal! BĒOWES RĒADA FÝRTORR, O’er Thae Cauld Moorlan Heights hynne, Leisurely, implacably, Great Warlike Orrah! Amyd Hye Rocky Smeddum all abowt me Strollin’, Intae the Verra Mirk Unfathomable, Airn-Flesh o’ mine, hynne Throwin’, An' my Wise an’ Bold an’ Proud! Sensual Noble Dame, Gerðr galdrs Scho! MĪN FÆÐMLICE OND BRYNIGE CWÝNE SÉO HYGEÞRYMME ÁDRÍEGEÞ, A' Oor Inflamed Naychts! Verra Wyntry Naychts! Afore the Sacral Stane-Hearth: WINTRES WÍDERFEORLIC HEORÐ, HWÆR ÆFRE OND LÍGBRYNE ÚSERE BRÆD GEMETEÞ, Stylle deep-burnin', Guid, Verra Guid Bleezan Orrah! Scho unco weall! Scho unco weall! Ah say! Rememberin', In Lang Robes o' Deep Crimson Fyre, noo! Her Superior Womanhood, Full! An' divinely, orra divinely! Thro' Her Glowin' Mystery Sinuous, o'er endowed! Hynne stylle, unco ardently! in Primal Lowes, fully Sinuous! Whare, Thys weall! weall! Scho unco knew! Ah! Guid, Verra Guid Thundir's Orrah! Used tae ay lose! nae abeigh! Wi'in an Abyss Interminable an' Endless Contynent! Ay, Great Guid Orrah! Masell! An’ Verra Firey! sinuously Trowe! Verra Soul! Unco tightly, wi' Norland Passion Stylle profoundly Wemenlie o' Hers! Shrouded, Scho saw me! Scho orra saw me! Noo, wi’ Courage Ablaze an’ unco Wreððe Ascendin’ To orra desire! to orra possess, To hae IT! To unco hae IT! back again! Ah! LEOFLIC IREN HÁTAN! The Lone Airn-Wanderer, SUNDORGENGA, Ah! Frae yon Auld Götaland: LAND GUMCYNNES GEAT-MÆCGUM, BEADWE-HEARPENÆGLES EORÐRÍCE, My ain Lost, the OVERMAN'S HIS-SEL! Great, Great Mjölnir's Warlike Orrah! Wi’ Bluish Skye-Gore, frae Thae Cauld Heights Unco! Verra, Verra Guid O'erhuman, Hynne, neist tae the Forgotten Firey Ruin! Totally 'Yont-Human! The DAZZLIN' OVERMAN'S AIN! Ah noo say! Ah noo tae the Moorlan Stormy Cluds yell! Orrah! Skye-Imbued Thundir-Bluid: NORÐÞUNRES WÆLDRÉOR Tae feel IT hynne! Tae unco feel IT: Great Guid Warlike Orrah! Total, unco Total, in Full New Skye-Gore IT! Verra, Verra Thor-Hye! Frae afarre! yet tae me Verra, Verra Skye-Close! Rumblin' Skye-Destruction o’ mine! Hynne Total Skye-Rebirth O'erhuman, An' the Roaran', unco Skye-Roaran', IT! Great Kvasir's Warlike Orrah! Afore the Verra Disc o' the Full Mowne Murky, Orra, unco, IT! in the East Dreary skye-risin', IT! 'Yont-Human, Great Jörð's Orrah! Supreme Transformation! WULFES GENIWUNG, Wi' the New Skye-Knowledge Scorchin' Owre, owre imbued! An' in the Soarin' Zenith-Fyre Deeply, deeply hawkan IT, hynne! Thro' Thad Cauld Moorlan Secret Ah am noo about to owre yell, Frae the Thundir's yon Rumblin' Verra, Verra Skye-Pride! Intae my Veins Fiery Fore’er an’ e’er, wi’ Ragin’ Skye-Bluish Hue Noo flowin’, Com on! Com on, hynne! Dearest Mountayn-Thunderbolt o’ mine! Taukin’ Ah noo am to ye stylle! Struck me deep! struck me noo, Ah yell! Great Fair Thor's Orrah! deep, ÍSENSCÚR, For fully Covered! orra Skye-Covered hynne! In Feudal Skye-Airn Indestructible Am Ah heare! for ye noo! Tae attract hynne! out o' Thad Norland Verra Blue! As the Skye-Magnet attracts the Rare Shinin' Metal, Yer deadly Skye-Rage wpon Airn-Skynne o' mine! Tae catalyze hynne yer loudly tellin', Frae Yon Abysmal Distance! Lone Skye-Voice, SCÍRHAM IC! BEADWE LÍGETUNG, Whyle Ah stylle! intae Hye Lowes unco climb Thad Cauld Rocky Soil, Whyle Ah stylle unco tell Thad Vision, most Solitarie o’ mine, Whyle Ah stylle restlessly, implacably seek My ain Lost Skye-Sel! The Hye, Verra Hye! Adamantine Person o' the OVERMAN! SUNSCÍNE SEOLF OND LINDGEBORGA, Want Ah! truly unco, want Ah! owre want Ah, hynne! Beguid an’ Great Guid! Hôm Loga Himna Orrah! Noo, richte noo! This kin Ah! still noo unco truly yell! 'Yont yon Whunstane Stronghold's Mirk Well! Feel, unco o'erhumanly live, hynne! Thad Continual Flashin’ Frae the Grayish Leaden Moorlan Cluds Noo the Zenith-Sunne Invisible behynde Hye-glorifyin’! Thro’ the Verra Tundir Voice o'er an' o'er echoin, In shape o’ Norland Hammer frae the Battle, IT! Intae Veins Skye-Bluish o’ mine! NORÐANWINDE! BLÓDWRACU OND FÆHÞ, Next tae my Feudal Airn-Side noo still wounded By Enemy an' Cowardly, tae Human, tae Cowardly! Frae the Distance, hynne! shot at me! Still Mortal Arrows! Nae Fear, hynne! tae Earthly! tae Miserable, Surpassingly Miserable, IT! unto the Verra Core! To the Hye Fair-Haired Gods, In Strang Norland Dignity an' Supreme Pow'r, An' Skye-Vengeance frae Enraged Sacral Thule blowin'! Noo! thro' Noble an' Future Skye-Gore o' mine schawe! In my stylle the Verra Lightnin': VICTORIAE SANGUINISQUE SIGNUM OVERMAN Noo implacably approachin'! An’ ye! Sweyt an’ Scaur Enemies, not Quhone all ye! Ye still cannae, cannae hear? Yell an’ Furious Bellum, aye! Frae Loud Thundir-Voice o’ mine? Skye-Crash frae my Battle-Wounds IT: MĪN HEORUDREÓR GLADAÞ, Wi'in yer ignoble ears noo! Wnto the Sacral Open Blue Risin’ unco Freed! Ye still want to *** to orra Heaven? Hynne, heyre Ah am! Com on! Com on! All ye Cowards! Thys is whate Ah orra cam for! Fecht me! Hand-to-Hand Strang! Do signal the Attack! ÞINE UNEARH GÚÐÞRACU OND GEWEALC, ÞUNORRÁDE, MĪN HILDERÆS! Glitterin’ Skye Axe-Blade o’ mine winna, IT Cease to wait to orra shatter, In a single Thundir-Blow, all yer Targes! Com on! Com on hynne! ye Cowards! Do noo hae the Warlike Verra Guts to taste Gleamin' VARGS UNDA Alone o' mine! O'er ye thys single Thundir-Blow pourin'! Ye want still to unco give Unto Enraged Airn o’ mine, Wonner IT, lo! Yer Hand-to-Hand, hynne Feudal an’ Essential Battle-Bluid? HEOLFRE ANWIG, Wha hynne want to be the First? Wha hynne ready is noo to unco suffer Frae my Verra Skye-Airn noo Skye-Flashin'! Gunnþinga Called, IT! Hys, alongside the Skye-Foreign, Nadir's ain! Miserable, tae earthly, tae human orra Defeat? Fecht Ah! for the Glare an’ Hye Glory O'erhuman Frae Bein’ as Pow’r, Bluish-Firey IT! ÞUNORES HAMOR, Hynne heyre glowran at ye Ah unco stand! Wi’ Great Clan-Vermillion Wyld Wraith o’ mine Hye, Norland-Fair, an’ orra Warlike! Wi’ Battle-Axe o’ mine gleamin’, Unner yon War-Glare, ne’er, ne’er settin’, An’ the Sunne’s ain Disc Refulgent, BLŌDE ANWEALD, HWÍTE HEAÐUSIGEL, Wnto deep the Wanwordie World, Mirk hynne, IT! Richte, orra Ancestral an' Warlike Richte! Greatly, unco greatly! Flamin'-Firey an' Zenith-Supreme, IT! Verra Iron-Curse Blindin'! An’ He cam! the Thunderbolt at length Unto me He orra cam! Thus struck waes Ah! My Flesh, an' Bluid, an' Spirit! Intae Thor's ain Skye-Force At once turnin' Tae greatly, tae unco! Verra Guid Orrah! see Thro' Nyow Total Skye-Blindness O'erhuman o' mine! Altogether hynne noo, Great Guid Saxon Orrah! The Forerunnin’ Presence noo Devastatin’ Wnto me, stick-an-stowe, noo orra IT! comin', IRSERN-SCÉAWERE IC, CWIOFYRES BURHWEARD, BÆLÞRACE OND BRYNEWIELMA GEBORGA, Frae thowa, IT! in Primal Wreððe Skye-Essences Or Twæȝe Strang Sunnes Hwenne! Beguid an’ Great, Great Warlike Orrah! Out-owre Hye Mountayn Glade, sic unco Wide: The Cauld Vitrified Fort   Wha's Sharp Surroundin' Gleamin' Wa Thro' Hye Heat Monumental generated! TAP O' NOTH waes: FÆRBRYNE GLÆSFÆTES STANWEORC, In Thundir-Bluid an’ Frame, An' further unco Skye-Imbued Ah! Wi' the Earthly Unidentified Energy Frae thad Towerin' Verra Steid, Noo still walkin’, At length thare surveyed hynne Ah! Wi’ Fyre-Sight, Deep-Penetratin’ IT, An’ Auldfarran, Lucid Reason o’ mine, The Heaven’s Blue Verra Vault: Proud Storm-Shrine, Dearest o’ mine! Ane wi’ my Skye-Rage Hye,   An’ the Atmosphere, waes IT, waes IT, Intolerably close, yet unco Potent, Heimdall-Divine! Hynne beheld Ah, lo! TWA ESSENCES O’ FYRE! BRYNEWIELMUM CAMPWUDA, Intangible, Untouchable, Impenetrable, baith Thay, O’er the Whole Uranic Skye-Arch, Their Skye-Dominion an’ Primordial Skye-Dignity Unco haudin’: The Essence o’ the ΛOΓΟΣ an’ the Essence o’ the REAL, Thay: STĪELENRA-HEÁÐUSIGELA FÝRBÆREAN GÆDERSCYPE OND GLÉDEGESA ÞĀ HLŪDE BECWÆDON, Twa! Tangible, Visible MICHTY SRANG SUNNES! Twa, hynne! Let me stylle noo distinctly remember! Unco Martially an' Norland Colourful! Great Orrah! Rotatin', Thay A'! Thay A'! Great Lone Sight o' mine! Splintered nae! Round Shields o' War Dazzlin': Ský Skǫglar frae the Auld Wondie Hólmganga, Thay! Frae Auld! Verra, indeed Verra primevaly Auld! Thro' Deep the Firey Tyme Conquerin', an' Ruthless, An' towardis the Fleysche, Fallacious hynne Mortal, unforgivin'! Crucial Gory Soil in yon 537 A.D. CAMLANN called Thad haes bin, IT! a Witness tae my ain Shed Battle-Bluid! BRYTENCYNING, IC WIÞGEHÆFTE HINE, BLÁCAN ÁNWÍGE, EFENLÍCAN GÚÐHERE BLÆDE, Meany, Meany Kingdomes, an' Onslaughts, A' Bluish-Ironclad Thay, ago!    Hynne noo, whileas Ah stylle speak, Immortal am, an' waes awready! Yet Thad nae, nae enough IT proved Afore the Presence Devastatin' o' the OVERMAN! Stylle, Ah knew, HE noo in waitin'! HE WHA! HE WHA! HE WHA unco: The Verra ENS! thro' the Dazzlin' Skye-Bluish Revenge o' HYS,   Hynne Mine! Tae the Yieldin' Ground o'ershadows! an' in an Ultimate Whyte War Flashin' tae Fathomless Eternity, in Gore Shinin' defeats! Intense Meanin' Primordial o' Battle Fierce baith Thae! Hynne unco embodyin', Afore thys, thro’ Verra Lowe penetratin’, An’ wi’ Hye, Verra, Verra Skye-Hye! Thundir-Bluid Thunderous Awa, awa flowin’ IT, orra! Loneliest Vision o’ mine: GEBYLD, When, Great Thundir’s Orrah! Wi’ a speed Wicked yet Prodigious, lo! Sublime, Closer, closer, wi’ the Impetus frae Twa Skye-Rams Wyld They orra cam! An’ in a Common Skye-Embrace! Their Dazzlin’ Blades o’ Vibrant Steel! Hynne crossin’, Thus unco, owre imbued waes, waes Ah! Wi' Thad Verra Hye Steel-Glare, Ah! Wi' Thad intae Deep Fyre afore Wounded Step o' Mine meltin', Feudal, unco Feudal Skye-Knowledge, an' Airn-Revenge! An' advanced wi' Firm Martial Gait hynne, towardis The Lonely Gleamin', Flashingly Firey, Rewb-Gem o' Moorlan War Forgotten, Thro' ITS Sheer Inner Foirce hynne unco Reddenin'! HERECIRME, RÉOD GIMCYNN, Whileas the Stellar Wynde silently ensued Frae Thad Last Titanic Encounter an’ Battle, Wi’ unco deafenin’ Core-Clash, Frae Thor’s His-sel, again, The Whispered Warlike Voice! Hynne intae Ane Nucleus Whyte At length blendin’, afore wnto me Noo orra comin’ IT: The Shield-Blinding: DÆGSCIELD GEBLENDAÞ For rendered orra, orra sightless! Waes Ah noo, Yet still able to distinctly behold, An’ e’en deeper, unco deeper! Great Warlike Orrah! The Verra Dazzlin’ Core, IT! Wi’ Verra Bluish Flash, an’ the Skye-Gore Frae Thundir-Eyes noo o’ mine Sheer Sharp, IT! For Thad Sudden Thundir-Blindin’ o’ Mine! Ah am noo taukin’ abowt, Great Dunnottar’s an’ Tantallon’s Orrah! Gift Supreme frae Hye the Zenith-Skye! Orra Skye-Generous hynne, IT! Intae an All-Powerful, unco All-Powerful, Ah say! An’ All-Seein’ Thundir-Force Thundir-O’erhuman, hynne frae the Thundir ‘Yont-Human! IT, in Hye Fyre! Skye-turned, An’ New Unknown Fiery Demons IT Orra, orra! unveiled: ÁGLÆCAN WUNDORSÉON, Athwart Noble Airn-Person o’ mine, Thro’ the Cauld Blast frae Thad Moorlan Wynde O’er an’ o’er fallin’, For the Verra Skye-Vision o’ the OVERMAN, Guid Orrah! Great Warlike Thundir’s Orrah! Unco Profound IT waes! An’ unco killed IT the Unprepared, For waes IT for nae Unworthy Skellum   To Feud an’ Sword Foreign! An’ the Whole Wnivers, in a Verra Flash, Thro’ the Same Auld an’ New Thunderbolt Ah waes lookin’ for, Penetrated IT orra waes: THE HERACLITEAN, DEVASTATINGLY PROPHETIC, IT! FIERY SKYE-FORCE! FRAE THE VERRA AIRN-PERSON STEEL-CONCRETE, IT! DAZZLINGLY 'YONT-TELLURIAN AN' SKYE-CENTRAL! O' THE OVERMAN: THE 'YONT-HUMAN HYNNE NAE HUMAN! THAD LIKE CONQUERIN', RAGIN' WHYTE-FYRE, WI'IN THE YIELDIN' MURKY MIRK VOID SHINES! INCANDESCENT O'ERHUMAN VERRA BODY! THAD MINE AIN, AH KNEW, SUNE AN' SYNE! UPON THAE BENS DREARY, IT SHALL, GREAT GUID ORRAH! BE! AN' WHA'S NOBLE AN' SOLEMN NAIM HYE! HYE! THE ETHER'S AIN SKYE-SUBSTANCE INTAE ALL-FERVID LOWES AN' METALLIC BRILLIANCY TURNIN' ΥΠΕΡ-ΚΕΡΑΥΝOΣ WAES! THUNDIR-CONSCIOUS, AN’ DIRECTIN’, THUNDIR-DESTROYIN’, HYNNE CRAETIN', O’ER ALL THUNDIR-DOMINATIN’, TO THE INFINITE UNCO THUNDIR-GROWIN’, MINE AIN BLUISH MOORLAN BLUID TO THE INFINITE ORRA THUNDIR-FEEDIN’, Together hynne wi’ my Arteries o’ Skye-Blue In Baith Spirit an’ the Verra Flow, When orra struck again waes Ah! Wnto Verra Death, an’ e’en ‘yont! waur e’en waur! Skye-Waur, Great Warlike Orrah! Towardis the Verra Dazzlin’ Skye-Weregild o’ Gowd: GOLDWEARDA FORNÉÐAN, For the Loneliest Vision o’ mine To in Fyre, still unco blinded Ah! Distinctly behold, At bein’ hynne, Great Warlike Orrah! The Sole Ironclad Witness O’ my by-gone Path Aflame, Intae ‘Yont-Human Will o’ mine! Noo unco forged, Great Hye Orrah! Wnto the Auld Bluid-Rock o’ Rebel Sacrifice Far awa! in the Snowy Caucasus Nae longer IT chained! HRINGUM SWEORCAN, Meanwhile, lo! At my Mirk Cloaked Back, Behold ye! Another Identical Skye-Fusion! For Twa Dazzlin’ Whyte Glows, Symmetrical Unco Mirrors They, As if frae Myrddin’s ain Magic, To View o’ mine orra appeared: Perfect Pow’r o’ Infinite Reflection, They! Mine ain Past, my ain Future! Baith embodyin’, An’ waes stylle Ah! Intae the Verra Middle o’ the Glare Standin’ Wi’ Gleamin’ Claymore drawn, Dearest o’ mine! Thundir-Hurt stylle, afore noo the Destroyer of the Past: ÍSIGE CWYLMING An’ noo, Guid, Verra, Verra Guid o’ Gowd Warlike Orrah! Thus willed Ah! the OVERMAN! BISENE WRECEND, Freish an’ Auld! Airn-Feudal an’ Strang! DUGUÞMIHTUM OND HEORUSWENGE, ĒACEN BIÞ ŌFER-MANN, Wi’ Michty Inner Energy o’ mine Great Feudal Orrah! unco Alone! Wha's Sole Hye Naim Firey OVERWILL! IT unco, oan the Gory Battlefield, Ah weall knew IT waes! Frae the Verra Skye-Dragun! A' Destroyin' hynne HE! Intae the Deep Fyre, wi' HYS Beastly Wings thus orra spread, Unco, prodigiously o'er A' HE hoverin', Towardis the Past allwayes Dreadful e'en, hynne! Wi’ HYS Scales o’ Enraged Gowd, The Shinin’ Horror wi’in the Skye, IT! FÝRDRACAN GLÆD GRYREBRÓGA SÉ FORÞGEWITENNESSE UNWYRCÐ, Skye-Perfect! intae the Mirror-Glare Image o' mine, HE! The OVERMAN o' Deep Fyre, Th'gither wi' my ain Reflected Bluid, hynne! Noo, in Feudal Tartane-War stylle thundir-flowin'! More intensely! o'er an' o'er in Steel hynne, HYS Supreme Presence greatly tae the Infinite! Orra skye-increasing! Intae the noo Unleashed Skye-Pow’r! Unto my Wounded Spirit o'er an' o'er Hynne HE skye-returnin’! As ane wi’ the Moorlan Rumblin’ Thunderbolt Ah waes lookin’ for, The Sacral Dazzlin’ Chain Mail Ablaze: SCÉAWERE-HRÉOH, In the Skye-Identity e'en most Skye-Asolute IT! My ain! HE orra, unco flashingly wearin’, Thus willed Ah! Past o’ mine back IT! In Feudal Person o’ HYS, my ain! empowered: GORY GHAIST! by-gone Immortal o’ mine IT! Still orra Alive an’ Fiery! Flowin’ an’ flashin’ Thad not Identical unto ITSELF IT waes! Hynne unto ITSELF most identical! Quhenne! in Feudal Airn-Flesh o’ HYS, Great Warlike Orrah! Thro’ Ragin’ Skye an’ Earthly Pride at once IT, Most fleshily, intae Hye Fyre Purifin’ Waes incarnated, Thus willed Ah, Future o’ mine, tae, hynne! Wi’ the Iyce Cross o’er Moorlan Coat o’ Arms, Frae Noble Dundarg’s Hye Wa, In Feudal Steel, Greater, unco Greater IT! Shimmerin’, For the Past lived in the Verra Bluid o’ HYS, Thynce thro' Hye Firey Gore Immortal:   FULMINE VICTOR MAGNUS INVICTUSQUE OVERMAN Let me Thys, NOBLE GLAMIS’ GREAT ORRAH! Truly, unco truly yell! waes IT potentiated, An’ sae waes the Future, stylle my Verra, Verra Ain! Wnto Dazzlin’ Airn-Bosom o’ mine   Wi’ Increasin’ Ocean’s Rage Tempestuous Fore’er returnin’, CRÆFTUM OND RÝNE STÍELE! BEADUWÆPEN, Intae Single Will O’erhuman An’ Unforgivin’ Continuum, as Ane, Whare Ye! Dearest Hye Thundir o’ mine! At the Verra Skye-Zenith, Still silently dwell!   Hynne willed Ah! my ain Image Frae the Past! Frae the Future! wi’ unco Force, At once IT emergin’, Towardis the Past! Towardis the Future! wi’ orra Dignity, At once IT rushin’, Intae the Implacable Spiral o’ Becomin’ Thad Ane wi’ the Verra Vortex o’ Return IT! Great Warlike Orrah! waes, The Past burnin’, the Future hynne IT affirmin’, An’ unto the Verra Skye-Core! GREAT HÖÐR’S AN’ WOTAN’S ORRAH! Directed, Noo afore my ain wi’ Fyre Wounded Eyes, Thro’ each Revolution, ITS unco Strength, Great Warlike Norland Orrah! Unto the Fathomless Fiery Infinite Increasin’: The Verra Mountayn Thunderbolt! Ah waes lookin’ for, For the Increase o’ Pow’r ne’er Identical Unto itself IT waes, Hynne waes unto Itself most identical! As noo met wi’ Ah THE DESTROYER O’ THE PAST, THE CREATOR O’ THE FUTURE, O’ LYFE FORE’ER CHANGIN’ THE GREAT AFFIRMATOR, HYE SKYE-VEINS O’ HYS O’ERHUMAN, MY AIN! THE IRONCLAD INCARNATOR AN’ THE FEUDAL WITNESS! O’ MY BURNAN MOUNTAYN-PATH DYIN’: THUNDIR-FRAME O’ MINE, HE! STRONGER! STRONGER! O’ER AN’ O’ER, UNTO MY BY-GONE DAYS BLEEZAN, AN’ THE ROARAN’ FUTURE! AS MOLTEN SKYE-GOWD INCORRUPTIBLE NOO RETURNIN’, WHAR IMMORTALITY ITSELF HYNNE, IN FORE’ER INCRESIN’ HYE FYRE AN’ BATTLE-GORE, O’ERSHADOWED IT WAES,   INTAE DEEP THE WHYTE SPIRAL, SKYE-RECURRENCE INCANDESCENT, IT! ANE WI’ THE LONE IRONCLAD IMAGE UNTO VERRA, VERRA PERFECTION! SKYE-SPECULAR O' MINE! SCORCHIN' AN' SHININ' AN' UNCO TANGIBLE, HE! THE CLOAKED SKYE-FIGURE THAD WAES NOO 'YONT THAD AULD FORGOTTEN WA, MY BLEEDIN' SKYE-COURAGE IN WARLIKE SILENCE AWAITIN', FRAE THE DEPTHS O' THE ROTATIN’ SKYE-ENERGY, WEALHFÆRELDES DÆGWÓMA, PROUDLY AN' INVINCIBLY SKYE-STANDIN'! WHAR, GUID SKYE ORRAH! FIERY WOE INTAE FEUDAL STEEL MELTIN', DEEPER AN' NOBLER IT PROVED! AN’ WI’ DAZZLIN' SKYE-REVENGE O'ER AN' O'ER, GREAT THOR'S ORRAH! IT SUPREMELY, IN BLUISH NORLAND AIRN FLASHED! For, lo! the Verra Blank frae the Past Together wi’ ITS Inevitable Feud-Foreign Woe Hauntin’ Thad cannae be avoided hynne! Mirk an’ Invisible, IT! It nae longer existed! It nae longer existed! For unco filled noo IT waes By the Devourin’ Lone Lowe an’ the Verra Frame: The Chain-Mailed, Heated in Airn War-Wame O’ THE OVERMAN! HE: WILL, AS THE VERRA INNER ENERGY! VIGOUR, AS THE VERRA INNER WILL! FRAE THE PAST, FRAE THE FUTURE! TANGIBLE, VISIBLE, INCARNATED, NOBLE WYLD DRAGON, SKYE-BEAST O’ MINE, GRYREBRÓGA OND FÆRGRYRE, WUNDORA WYRM! ÚHT-SCEAÞA HÉ! FYRE-WOUNDED IN NAE GOWD-CAGE, HE! O'ER SKYE-SPIRIT O' MINE, HE! HYNNE, UNCO SKYE-FLYIN'! WI’ HYS SKYE-GORE O’ER THE BARS INVISIBLE TRULY MINE AIN! GREAT GUID ORRAH! DOWNE, DOWNE! NOO LIKE THE PUREST RHODIUM WI' THE FYRE-BLUISH SKYE-ARTERIES O' THE LONE THUNDERBOLT AH WAES LOOKIN' FOR AGAIN UNCO BLENDIN', Unto at Braemar the Verra Battle-Gore, Afore the Lang Hour, in Kyng Eochaid’s Martial Hidden Lore, By the Force o’ Flowin’ Lava Frae the Cauld an’ Dreary Highlands Implacable Echoin’ Thad Becomin’ as Increase in Pow’r IT, Great, Great Orrah! waes, Backwards intae Tyme! Intae the Future hynne! For the OVERWILL kan IT! Destroye the Feud-Foreign Gory Bygane! When o’er the Gleamin’ Skye-Cuirass O’ the HYE OVERMAN ALONE! IT lies visible an’ yieldin’ an’ razed an’ burnin'! When o’er the New Soil o’ Dazzlin’ Alabaster Conquerin’ Intae Deep the Future, thro’ Renewed Rage An' yon Incandescent Skye-Thundir! Ah waes lookin' for, HE! My Specular Skye-Incarnation! Fore'er orra creates! Whileas thae words, in Roaran’ Wreððe, Flame-Wounded, Ah still loudly whisper, But lo! Great Warlike Orrah! THE IYCE CROSS FIREY O’er Mirk War-Tartan, Dearest o’ mine! Next to Dundarg’s Hye Wa, Ah well remember! Embroidered, Close to my Ruby Brooch strangely IT, Unco strangely, like a Verra Premonition Gleamed, afore noo The Mirror-Fusion: WĒOHES MELTAN When, lo! Airn an’ Thundir! Great Immortal Warlike Orrah! Thro’ the Loud Whisper o’ the Thundir Ah waes lookin’ for,   The Image o’ the OVERMAN Detached ITSELF, lo! Frae baith the Surfaces in the Twa Opposed Mirrors: Frae baith thae Reflectin' Skye-Furnaces Gleamin'! Afore Noble Feudal Person o' mine, Unco Sightless! Still unco Skye-Sightless! E'en more! noo unco Sightless! HE hynne, orra Ah beheld cam! Wha’s Supreme Hieland Emanatin’ Force Frae the Directin’ Skye-Lightnin’, IT! Ah waes lookin’ for, Na orra, orra Prodigious Sight! Nae e’en Vör’s, or Heimdallur’s, or Snotra’s Ain! If nae in Thundir Skye-Blinded as noo Mine! Cuid, cuid IT! humanly, still tae humanly!   This noo Ah! in Thad Skye-Fyre ‘Yont-Human! Soarin’ heare in Dignity o’er Tap o’ Noth’s Black Vitreous Smeddum an’ Cauld Martial Sand, Cannae, cannae doubt! Thro’ Thad Flashin’ Skye-Reflection withstand, Frae the Past! frae the Future, hynne! Great Warlike Orrah! To encounter Spirit Ablaze o’ mine, To Unleash Wyld Beast Immortal Thad My Verra Mountayn Path   Guarded still, Some Bluish Bluid Stains IT leavin’ O’er the Michty an’ Pure Glass still: My ain! frae the Clash o’ Life,   An’ noo! Great, Great Warlike Orrah! A LIGHNIN’-SHADE IRONCLAD! Unto me, ITS Skye-Bluish Garb o’ Hye Skye-War! In an Identity an’ Heat, e’en the Most Absolute! To Verra Perfection reflectin', Towardis Feudal Person o’ mine IT noo! Wi’ Slow Skye-Gait, Devastatingly, IT advanced, An’ when afore me at length IT standin’, Thro’ the Loud Sound o’ the Thundir, lo! Ah waes still lookin’ for, In a Great Whoosh an’ Roaran’ Rumble Non-Human Deep Voice, IT! Frae the Past! Frae the Future! Frae the Verra Brunan’ Throat O’ the LIGHTNIN’ HIS-SEL! Ah waes still looking for, Wi’ Spiral Exhalations unner the Form, schorcin’ IT! O’ Just Anger frae Primeval hynne Most Real Forgotten Feudal Lore The Hand-to-hand Wapin-Storm Harsh! An’ Skye-Revenge, still Mine Ain! Unco an’ owre loaded, As Maddenin’ Heated-Airn, IT again! Unto the Cauld Blue Vault o’ the Verra Skye Wi’ orra, orra Dignity Lonely risin’,   Thae Verra Syllables! The VERRA SKYE-INCARNATOR O'ERHUMAN! Intae Deep noo, Great Orrah! The Abysmal Skye-Core Bluish-Aflame, IT! o' the Total Specular Skye-Force: BRYNEWELMES WORDHLÉOÐOR The Skye-Conscience, Víðarr-Hye o’ mine! Most distinctly! Great Warlike Orrah! HE, THE BLUISH INCARNATION HYE O' THE HYE LIGHTNIN' ITSELF! Ah waes lookin' for, Wi' a Skye-Cowntenance Storm-Hidden Flashin’ frae Deep the Obscured Skye-Mirk Thro’ a Battle-Scar intae the Fyre gleamin' O'er HYS left Sword-Offended Cheek: Thys cuid Ah! unco Blinded, see! Intae Deep the Skye-Unknown, Still, Great Guid Glamis’ Orrah! Stick-an-stowe a Wonner, Mine Ain! Thro' HYS remarkably Echoin', Non-human, hynne 'Yont human! VERRA SKYE-RUMBLIN'! Noo unco earthily uttered: YE, WOLF-WOUNDED! AN’ PROUD, IN BLACK TARTAN O’ WAR MUFFLED, KEEK AT ME! KEEK AT ME NOO! IN NAE TAE EARTHLY TOWMOND! DO NOO HYNNE LISTEN TAE ME! YE, NOO FYRE-IRONCLAD WOUNDED! THE HYE NORLAND GODS INTAE OWRE FYRE STYLLE HYNNE HONORIN'! BETTYR BIDE AN' DIE OAN THE NOBLE BATTLEFIELD GORY, AN' STYLLE, 'YONT BAITH LIEFES AN' DEATH, FORE'ER ALIVE HYNNE BE! THEYNE BIDE A MISERABLE LIEFES! WULFE BLŌDGA HEONAN! ÞŪ BLADESUNGA OND LÉOMENA HEOFONFYR, WACA BYRNSWEORDES WIÐ GEHATUM! FOR DAINGEROUS! VERRA, INTAE THE FEUDAL FYRE DEEP, IT! DAINGEROUS! MUST TREOWE IDEAS, IN VERRA HYE LOWES, BE! FOR THE VERRA MICHTY, WHYTE ZENITH-SUNNE AN' THE ALLWAYES UNKOWN MIRK DEATH! THE SAME THAY! GREAT THOR'S NORLAND ORRAH! ARE, FOR THE SELECTED FEUDAL MAN, IRONCLAD HE! AS YE, IN THAE HYE LOWES, UNCO ARE! NOO AFORE ME! INTAE THE AULD LONE TARGE-REFLECTION THAD IS, WAES, AN' SHALL IT BE, THINE! HYNNE, HEARE AH AM! FOR FRAE THE AULD SHIELD-MIRROR YER RICHTE SKYE-VENGENCE! FOR YER AIN SKYE-FORM AFORE YE HATH RISEN NOO! FOR FREISH VALUES ARE NOO OWRE NEEDED! WI'IN DEEP PRIMAL SKYE-FYRE UNCO SKYE-LIVED! SAE, SKYE-LIVE THAIM! UNCO DRAM THAIM A’! WHATE'ER THE RISK INFERNAL, AN' MOORLAN AMBUSH! GÁSTCWALE HELRÚNENA FORNÉÐAN, THRO’ HYE BLUISH SKYE-LOWES, SKYE-DESTROYIN’ THAY WI’IN YER AIN LONE SKYE-VOICE IT NOO! FRAE AFARRE! FRAE UNCO AFARRE RUMBLIN’, FOR CURSED IS THE FLEETIN' HOUR! AN' SAE MUST BE CONQUERED, IT! GREAT ORRAH! AYE! IN YER SUPERIOR BLUID NOO O'ERHUMAN, MINE AIN! FOR BRANDED HAE AH RUDDY SKYE-FLESH O’ MINE THAD WAES, IS, AN’ SHALL IT BE! BY THYS VERRA, VERRA SKYE-IMAGE HYNNE, YER AIN! WI’ THE IYCE-CROSS FIERY FRAE HYE THE THUNDIR’S LOUD VOICE, IN NAE WHISPER DAMNABLE, NOR AIRN-FOREIGN! AH NOO ORRA TELL: YER SYMMETRICAL LONE SKYE-FORCE: THE VERRA LONE THUNDIR-BLUID! YER AIN LONE SKYE-WRAITH IRONCLAD! THRO' ETERNAL SKYE-POW’R, AN' OUT O’ THE BLUISH LONE SKYE-REVENGE O’ER AN’ O’ER UNCO, O’ERHUMANLY MIRRORIN’! TO YE HYNNE OWRE IN DEEP FYRE RETURNIN’, YER AIN WANTIN’ SKYE-HALF, HYNNE! TH'GITHER WI’ YER SKYE-SPIRIT! IN HYE LOWES NOO UNTO THE CORE SKYE-DABBED! A' THIS! A’ THIS! AH SAY! AH TRULY YELL! TH'GITHER WI' THE LAST SKYE-PRIZE! INTAE HYE THE SKYE-BLAZE, THE HAIL ENEMY LAND HARSH NOO FRAE CAULD HORIZON TO CAULD HORIZON OWRE CROSSIN’, A' THIS! A' THIS! AH ALLON, TRULY! YER MIRROR SKYE-DOWBILL IMMORTAL! THRO' STEEL CORE-METALLIC, IN HYE SKYE-FYRE AM! ABYSMAL LAVA-BLUID O’ MINE! FLOWIN’ FRAE HYE RED HEL, IT! THY LANE BEHOLD! YER AIN! INTAE DEEP THE FUSION-GLARE, BLASTED SKYE-FURNACE IT! UNREACHABLE, UNFATHOMABLE, MOST TANGIBLE, IT! THE VERRA FRAME LESURELY, NEXT TO YE IN BATTLE STROLLIN’! THE LONE INCARNATION AN’ THE SKYE-ROAR FRAE THE VERRA THUNDERBOLT YE WERE LOOKIN’ FOR HYNNE YER FUTURE, YER BYGANE: NAE DIFFERENCE! THAA ARE MINE AIN! INTAE THE HYE FYRE, FRAE YER TANGIBLE SKYE-WILL! THAD AH NOO HEARE AM, FOR SKYE-ENERGY CANNAE DERIVE FRAE NOTHINGNESS! NOR UNTO NOTHINGNESS KIN IT RETURN! HYNNE WILL, 'YONT DEATH, THRO' THE LANG AN’ BLUISH SKYE-LOWE YE WERE LOOKIN’ FOR, IMMORTAL AS CONQUERIN' PROVES, STILL, WI'IN RAGIN' AN' VISCERAL DEEP PRIMAL FYRE, YER AIN! FOR YE SHALL STILL LIVE YER LIFE AGAIN,   THIS TYME INTAE THE HYE SKYE-POW'R! WI' ITS NEW ESSENCE SELF-OVERCOME, HYNNE DO UNCO LIVE NOO! THAD VERRA GORE HEARE, FRAE MY BLEEZAN OPEN SCARS, YER AIN! FOR THE WORN PAST DWELLS DEFEATED IN THE FUTURE AS EMPOW'RED! INTAE THE STEEL-BLUISH IMAGE AH HEARE AM! NOO AFORE THINE SKYE-BLINDED EYES THRO' THE LONE HYE LOWE WOUNDED, THAD ARE ALSO MINE! IN NAE SPECTRAL FYRE, HYNNE! STICK-AN-STOWE, AN' VERRA VERRA SUNE! YER AIN! WI'IN THE HYE ZENITH-THUNDIR HYNNE, YE WERE LOOKIN' FOR, O'ER AN' O'ER FORE'ER LIVIN',   AN' THRO' THE HIELAND FLOWIN 'LAVA: THE BECOMIN' IN POW'R FORE'ER RENEWED THRO' THAD SKYE-BLUID HYNNE!   FLASHINGLY STREAMIN' AS A CONQUERIN' WYLD FYRE-RIVER FRAE NOBLE HYNNE SUPERIOR GORE, DOWNE, DOWNE! INTAE THE VERRA WHYTE CHASM, AN' FLASHIN' ABYSS! FRAE YON SHARP AN' SHININ' AN' TOWERIN' MIRK ROCKS! AN' THIS SACRIFICIAL BLUISH BLUID INCANDESCENT FRAE O'ERHUMAN LIFE STILL WOUNDED, MINE! WAES, AN' IS, AN' SHALL IT BE! BEHOLD YE! UNCO SEE YE, NOO! YE, O'ERHUMANLY BLINDED! HE WHA! THE DREARY VOID O' DARKNESS CANNAE, CANNAE! IN ANY MANNER NOO KNOW! HYNNE IN HIELAND SKYE-RAGE, AN' HYE! O'ER THE FEUDAL THRONE IMMORTAL, AN' HEARE! OAN THE SURFACE O' THIS SKYE-MIRROR! WAES, AN' IS, AN' SHALL IT BE! WI'IN THE MELTIN' UNTO THE COSMIC CORE SKYE-GLARE, YER AIN! AN' NOO! DO ADVANCE! DO TAKE A STROLL INTAE THE HYE SKYE-GORE! GANG AYONT! GANG AYONT! AH SAY! 'YONT EVERYTHING! ‘YONT LIFE AN’ DEATH E’EN! GANG AYONT! AN' WHATE SHALL YE IN THE END SEE? AT THE BOTTOM O' THE WHYTE CHASM FIERY? YER FLASHIN' IN AIRN IMAGE ALONE! THAD IS MINE AIN! HEE HAW, HEE HAW ELSE, AH SAY! WI’IN THE SPECULAR SKYE-POW'R INCARNATED, THE VERRA SUM AN’ COMMUNION O’ THE ETERNAL TENSIONS IN BECOMIN’ DWELLIN’ AH HEARE AM! THRO’ THE LOUD SING FRAE THE THUNDIR HYNNE! BY HYE SKYE-VENGEANCE FORE’ER INCREASIN', O'ER AN' O'ER TO YER SPIRIT HYNNE RETURNIN', YERS HYNNE MINE! When noo, Great Warlike Orrah! Upon thae Verra Words, thro’ my Ain By noo Thundir-Voice! In an' unco Skye-Rumblin', Wi'in Thad O'erhuman Blaze wi' hye force condensin' Intae a NEW THUNDIR-FRAME Skye-Concrete In aspects o' PURE BLUISH HEAT! HUMAN ALTOGETHER NAE LONGER, IT! tone, Ah distinctly hearin’, When noo, Guid Sundrum's Orrah! The Fyre-Bringer: FÝRHEARD HEREWULF OND HEREWÆÐA A Thoosan Black Banners, in Hye Glorious Lowes, Orra issuin’, An’ wnto yon Whyte Chasm the Salute wavin’, Wi’ the Hue o’ Red-Hel IT imbuin’, HE, Hynne Ah: the Freish an’ Auld Titan Far awa, far awa! wi'in the Dreary Caucasus! Frae ayont yon Suthron, hynne! Ah kin clearly see! Rebel hynne Creator, HE! HE, Creator hynne Rebel! The OVERMAN! comin’ o’er, still approachin’, Intae noo deep the Skye-Dance Everlastin’ Thro’ HYS AIN hynne MINE Skye-Thunderous Sound Ah waes lookin’ for, Dominatin’, Frae Thae Simmetrical Verra Fyre-Mirrors! Still glarin’ Ne’er e’er to yield, the Twa Skye-Surfaces! Nor in human, tae human! Unco Gory Misery, nor Skye-Foreign Blasphemy, Nor Damnable an' Cowardly Affront To e'er wane! At length thro' the Hye Vigour Supreme Frae the Overwill Alone! Dearest o’ Mine! Inner Energy Abysmal: Still Uknown, IT! An’ in Skye-Reverge freed! A Thoosan Black Banners, in Fyre, Ah say! HE, hynne Ah issuin’, When noo, Great Guid Orrah! The Skye-Bluid o' the OVERMAN: Theis! oan Thae Countless Mirk Banners floatin' In Hye Honour o' the Zenith-Sunne! Wi'in abysmal whyte runes waes noo graven, Hye Selective an' Skye-Supreme proved! Nae, nae IT, for all! For nae everybody is worth withstandin' The Return o' Pow'r's Noble, an' Flashin' Supreme Force, an' Infinite Speed, an' Spiral Revolution! CÁFNES ÞRÝÞBORD, Tae the Skye-Limitless fore’er, In the Form o’ Hye Steel Feudal Skye-soarin’, ITS Verra Great, Verra Guid, Great Guid Auld Carham’s Orrah! Burnan Wheill o’ Universal Core-Energy Skye-Central, Skye-Abysmal, IT! Alongside the Rational Force frae the Thundir-Impetus Thad waes, is, an’ shall IT be the OVERMAN’S AIN! In Hye Lowes increasin’, Tae the Skye-Infinite, hynne! Most Renewed, most Identical, Intae the Verra Spiral most Empowered! The Worthy ENS, unco hynne Joyful, IT! Immortal owre feastin’, For intae Thae Rapid Coils o' Glorious Fyre hynne, Frae Thys MICHTY TARGE O' SKYE-ENERGY PERENNIAL! Nae for all! Immortality is solemnly worth Thro' Thad Increasingly Growin' Feudal Skye-Rebirth Steel-Mirrorin'! Wnto ragefully Bluish-Ablaze an' Core-Feudal Noble Hye Perfection! An' in Eternal Steel Unconditional, IT! Dwellin', The Human, tae Human! Gory Chains o’ Promethean Slavery Bluish wi’ the Verra Reverberation Frae the Lightnin’ O’erhuman Ah waes lookin’ for, They suddely becam! An’ at length, Great Warlike Orrah! The Lonesome Blindin’ Frame o’ Gowd, Wha’s Sole Hye Thundir-Naim Overman Skye: SCEAWERES IREN-EALWEALDA IT orra waes! Frae the Twa Dazzlin' Mirrors In Perfect Symmetry emanated wi’in The RETURN O’ POW’R! Burnan’ Vortex-Event Universal, IT! In Slender Lines o’ Whyte Fyre, The Verra Core Heat Reachin’, Intae Infinite Reflections o’ Primordial Pow’r Frae the Twa Lookin' Glasses, Blindin' They! O’er All, Great, Great IT! Njörður's ain Battle Orrah! Limitless Dominion, an’ the Feudal Rule Steel-haudin’, WHILEAS WAES AH! WAES AH! GUID, VERRA GUID EILEAN DONAN'S WAR-TARTAN ORRAH! STYLLE CHAINED IN BLUISH GORE, MY AIN! HYNNE THE OVERMAN'S AIN, TAE! WNTO THE AULD AN' HYE! VERRA SKYE-HYE, IT! THUNDIR-GLEAMIN' BLUID-ROCK O' SKYE-SACRIFYCE: NAE LONGER! NAE ORRA SKYE-LONGER! An’ ITS central Rays an’ the Verra Lowes Intae Ane Flashin’ Ironclad ***** Polarizin’, A Thoosan Tymes Greater, Mightier hynne: The OVERMAN! O’er an’ o’er unto me returnin’, ‘Yont the Reddenin’ Pillars o’ Immortal Skye-Renown! ‘Yont Death, the Mirk Unknown! An’ ITS Feud-Foreign Fear, Whyle, lo! the Steel-Vibration gleamin’ Frae Máni's ain Verra Crescent, Dusky-Red, IT! Waes, waes, in yon Murky West Still IT unco risin', Unfathomable, an' Potent, an' Dreary, Unto the Stane Circles’ Builders Wounded frae Life, at Skara Brae, Appearin’, At right angles to the Chain-Mailed ***** Noo orra descedin’ To cross the Region o’ the Heart: Let IT fall intae the Verra Abyss! Yet the Sceadewe! Great Wotan's Orrah! ÓÐENES HÁLIGE CRAWE, IT stylle leisurely stood, In Hys Mirk Bluid Bleedin’, Crossed hynne by the Verra Thunderbolt! Ah waes lookin’ for, An’ Hys, frae Kyng Rædwald the Gift! Mask o’ War IT, lo! Wi’ Black Fyre bleedin’, Upon the Cauld Soil, together wi’ Hys Cloak, Waes IT thrown, Hynne Hys Mirk Warlike Self unveilin’, Still Mine Ain! Nae Gory Fear! tae owre hide: SCEAD UNDER HELME HEARD BIÞ, MĪN FORESCÝWA RÉADAÞ.
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Jun 30, 2021
Jun 30, 2021 at 10:26 AM UTC
hermes-varini
Overman Skye
The Airn-Wanderer: WÆPEN WUNDUM SUNDORGENGA Waes Ah! Waes Ah, noo! Beguid! an’ Greatly, unco Greatly Hye, IT! Wi'in Abysmal-Deep Primal Fyre, IT! Great Fair Thor's Orrah! Lookin’ yondir! lookin’ yondir, noo! Afore avidly, unco avidly Drank hynne Ah! Great Warlike Orrah! The Gowblat o’ Noble Precious Gowd Shimmerin': Gleamin’ further, IT! Ane an' the Same, hynne! Wi' the Verra Glare frae Bein' o' Power Supreme! Gift Invincibly Purified IT, hynne! Thad Enraged Wotan’s ain Verra Chalice o’ mine, An’ Toast frae Hye-HEREHAND! Great, in Fyre Ragin' noo, Ullr's Orrah! Frae Noble Valhalla Rairan Deep Wi’ ITS Metal Fiery Soul, hynne! Orra Skye-Substance, orra Skye-Schorcin’ o’ mine! Noo, verra unco! Core-Martially stylle grabbin’, Wi’ Black Leather Glove O’ Total Dazzlin’, an' Verra, Verra ​Core-Abysmal, IT! Whyte-War, hynne! ÞUNORE HWÍT CEALLA, Fyre-Flowin’, the Verra Northumbrian Mead!   Livin’, Tasty wi’ Pow’r, Great Warlike Orrah! Niflheim-Watery, IT! BEADWE, MĪN SWÆTAN, Frae yon Ironclad Norþan-hymbre! Frae Hel Itself Delicious, Unco dyrinkin’, downe the hatch! Hynne Ah, My by-gone Days left orra Aflame: Great Vision! Great Bellum! noo dyin’ o’ mine! Whileas stylle waes hynne Ah! Thro’ the Bare Highlands Dreary, ‘Yont South Ruins’ Bluish Burnan Wa, Deep-Wanderin’, In search for the Verra Lightnin’ Raed, An' Flashin' Guide o' mine Devastatingly Immortal! BĒOWES RĒADA FÝRTORR, O’er Thae Cauld Moorlan Heights hynne, Leisurely, implacably, Great Warlike Orrah! Amyd Hye Rocky Smeddum all abowt me Strollin’, Intae the Verra Mirk Unfathomable, Airn-Flesh o’ mine, hynne Throwin’, An' my Wise an’ Bold an’ Proud! Sensual Noble Dame, Gerðr galdrs Scho! MĪN FÆÐMLICE OND BRYNIGE CWÝNE SÉO HYGEÞRYMME ÁDRÍEGEÞ, A' Oor Inflamed Naychts! Verra Wyntry Naychts! Afore the Sacral Stane-Hearth: WINTRES WÍDERFEORLIC HEORÐ, HWÆR ÆFRE OND LÍGBRYNE ÚSERE BRÆD GEMETEÞ, Stylle deep-burnin', Guid, Verra Guid Bleezan Orrah! Scho unco weall! Scho unco weall! Ah say! Rememberin', In Lang Robes o' Deep Crimson Fyre, noo! Her Superior Womanhood, Full! An' divinely, orra divinely! Thro' Her Glowin' Mystery Sinuous, o'er endowed! Hynne stylle, unco ardently! in Primal Lowes, fully Sinuous! Whare, Thys weall! weall! Scho unco knew! Ah! Guid, Verra Guid Thundir's Orrah! Used tae ay lose! nae abeigh! Wi'in an Abyss Interminable an' Endless Contynent! Ay, Great Guid Orrah! Masell! An’ Verra Firey! sinuously Trowe! Verra Soul! Unco tightly, wi' Norland Passion Stylle profoundly Wemenlie o' Hers! Shrouded, Scho saw me! Scho orra saw me! Noo, wi’ Courage Ablaze an’ unco Wreððe Ascendin’ To orra desire! to orra possess, To hae IT! To unco hae IT! back again! Ah! LEOFLIC IREN HÁTAN! The Lone Airn-Wanderer, SUNDORGENGA, Ah! Frae yon Auld Götaland: LAND GUMCYNNES GEAT-MÆCGUM, BEADWE-HEARPENÆGLES EORÐRÍCE, My ain Lost, the OVERMAN'S HIS-SEL! Great, Great Mjölnir's Warlike Orrah! Wi’ Bluish Skye-Gore, frae Thae Cauld Heights Unco! Verra, Verra Guid O'erhuman, Hynne, neist tae the Forgotten Firey Ruin! Totally 'Yont-Human! The DAZZLIN' OVERMAN'S AIN! Ah noo say! Ah noo tae the Moorlan Stormy Cluds yell! Orrah! Skye-Imbued Thundir-Bluid: NORÐÞUNRES WÆLDRÉOR Tae feel IT hynne! Tae unco feel IT: Great Guid Warlike Orrah! Total, unco Total, in Full New Skye-Gore IT! Verra, Verra Thor-Hye! Frae afarre! yet tae me Verra, Verra Skye-Close! Rumblin' Skye-Destruction o’ mine! Hynne Total Skye-Rebirth O'erhuman, An' the Roaran', unco Skye-Roaran', IT! Great Kvasir's Warlike Orrah! Afore the Verra Disc o' the Full Mowne Murky, Orra, unco, IT! in the East Dreary skye-risin', IT! 'Yont-Human, Great Jörð's Orrah! Supreme Transformation! WULFES GENIWUNG, Wi' the New Skye-Knowledge Scorchin' Owre, owre imbued! An' in the Soarin' Zenith-Fyre Deeply, deeply hawkan IT, hynne! Thro' Thad Cauld Moorlan Secret Ah am noo about to owre yell, Frae the Thundir's yon Rumblin' Verra, Verra Skye-Pride! Intae my Veins Fiery Fore’er an’ e’er, wi’ Ragin’ Skye-Bluish Hue Noo flowin’, Com on! Com on, hynne! Dearest Mountayn-Thunderbolt o’ mine! Taukin’ Ah noo am to ye stylle! Struck me deep! struck me noo, Ah yell! Great Fair Thor's Orrah! deep, ÍSENSCÚR, For fully Covered! orra Skye-Covered hynne! In Feudal Skye-Airn Indestructible Am Ah heare! for ye noo! Tae attract hynne! out o' Thad Norland Verra Blue! As the Skye-Magnet attracts the Rare Shinin' Metal, Yer deadly Skye-Rage wpon Airn-Skynne o' mine! Tae catalyze hynne yer loudly tellin', Frae Yon Abysmal Distance! Lone Skye-Voice, SCÍRHAM IC! BEADWE LÍGETUNG, Whyle Ah stylle! intae Hye Lowes unco climb Thad Cauld Rocky Soil, Whyle Ah stylle unco tell Thad Vision, most Solitarie o’ mine, Whyle Ah stylle restlessly, implacably seek My ain Lost Skye-Sel! The Hye, Verra Hye! Adamantine Person o' the OVERMAN! SUNSCÍNE SEOLF OND LINDGEBORGA, Want Ah! truly unco, want Ah! owre want Ah, hynne! Beguid an’ Great Guid! Hôm Loga Himna Orrah! Noo, richte noo! This kin Ah! still noo unco truly yell! 'Yont yon Whunstane Stronghold's Mirk Well! Feel, unco o'erhumanly live, hynne! Thad Continual Flashin’ Frae the Grayish Leaden Moorlan Cluds Noo the Zenith-Sunne Invisible behynde Hye-glorifyin’! Thro’ the Verra Tundir Voice o'er an' o'er echoin, In shape o’ Norland Hammer frae the Battle, IT! Intae Veins Skye-Bluish o’ mine! NORÐANWINDE! BLÓDWRACU OND FÆHÞ, Next tae my Feudal Airn-Side noo still wounded By Enemy an' Cowardly, tae Human, tae Cowardly! Frae the Distance, hynne! shot at me! Still Mortal Arrows! Nae Fear, hynne! tae Earthly! tae Miserable, Surpassingly Miserable, IT! unto the Verra Core! To the Hye Fair-Haired Gods, In Strang Norland Dignity an' Supreme Pow'r, An' Skye-Vengeance frae Enraged Sacral Thule blowin'! Noo! thro' Noble an' Future Skye-Gore o' mine schawe! In my stylle the Verra Lightnin': VICTORIAE SANGUINISQUE SIGNUM OVERMAN Noo implacably approachin'! An’ ye! Sweyt an’ Scaur Enemies, not Quhone all ye! Ye still cannae, cannae hear? Yell an’ Furious Bellum, aye! Frae Loud Thundir-Voice o’ mine? Skye-Crash frae my Battle-Wounds IT: MĪN HEORUDREÓR GLADAÞ, Wi'in yer ignoble ears noo! Wnto the Sacral Open Blue Risin’ unco Freed! Ye still want to *** to orra Heaven? Hynne, heyre Ah am! Com on! Com on! All ye Cowards! Thys is whate Ah orra cam for! Fecht me! Hand-to-Hand Strang! Do signal the Attack! ÞINE UNEARH GÚÐÞRACU OND GEWEALC, ÞUNORRÁDE, MĪN HILDERÆS! Glitterin’ Skye Axe-Blade o’ mine winna, IT Cease to wait to orra shatter, In a single Thundir-Blow, all yer Targes! Com on! Com on hynne! ye Cowards! Do noo hae the Warlike Verra Guts to taste Gleamin' VARGS UNDA Alone o' mine! O'er ye thys single Thundir-Blow pourin'! Ye want still to unco give Unto Enraged Airn o’ mine, Wonner IT, lo! Yer Hand-to-Hand, hynne Feudal an’ Essential Battle-Bluid? HEOLFRE ANWIG, Wha hynne want to be the First? Wha hynne ready is noo to unco suffer Frae my Verra Skye-Airn noo Skye-Flashin'! Gunnþinga Called, IT! Hys, alongside the Skye-Foreign, Nadir's ain! Miserable, tae earthly, tae human orra Defeat? Fecht Ah! for the Glare an’ Hye Glory O'erhuman Frae Bein’ as Pow’r, Bluish-Firey IT! ÞUNORES HAMOR, Hynne heyre glowran at ye Ah unco stand! Wi’ Great Clan-Vermillion Wyld Wraith o’ mine Hye, Norland-Fair, an’ orra Warlike! Wi’ Battle-Axe o’ mine gleamin’, Unner yon War-Glare, ne’er, ne’er settin’, An’ the Sunne’s ain Disc Refulgent, BLŌDE ANWEALD, HWÍTE HEAÐUSIGEL, Wnto deep the Wanwordie World, Mirk hynne, IT! Richte, orra Ancestral an' Warlike Richte! Greatly, unco greatly! Flamin'-Firey an' Zenith-Supreme, IT! Verra Iron-Curse Blindin'! An’ He cam! the Thunderbolt at length Unto me He orra cam! Thus struck waes Ah! My Flesh, an' Bluid, an' Spirit! Intae Thor's ain Skye-Force At once turnin' Tae greatly, tae unco! Verra Guid Orrah! see Thro' Nyow Total Skye-Blindness O'erhuman o' mine! Altogether hynne noo, Great Guid Saxon Orrah! The Forerunnin’ Presence noo Devastatin’ Wnto me, stick-an-stowe, noo orra IT! comin', IRSERN-SCÉAWERE IC, CWIOFYRES BURHWEARD, BÆLÞRACE OND BRYNEWIELMA GEBORGA, Frae thowa, IT! in Primal Wreððe Skye-Essences Or Twæȝe Strang Sunnes Hwenne! Beguid an’ Great, Great Warlike Orrah! Out-owre Hye Mountayn Glade, sic unco Wide: The Cauld Vitrified Fort   Wha's Sharp Surroundin' Gleamin' Wa Thro' Hye Heat Monumental generated! TAP O' NOTH waes: FÆRBRYNE GLÆSFÆTES STANWEORC, In Thundir-Bluid an’ Frame, An' further unco Skye-Imbued Ah! Wi' the Earthly Unidentified Energy Frae thad Towerin' Verra Steid, Noo still walkin’, At length thare surveyed hynne Ah! Wi’ Fyre-Sight, Deep-Penetratin’ IT, An’ Auldfarran, Lucid Reason o’ mine, The Heaven’s Blue Verra Vault: Proud Storm-Shrine, Dearest o’ mine! Ane wi’ my Skye-Rage Hye,   An’ the Atmosphere, waes IT, waes IT, Intolerably close, yet unco Potent, Heimdall-Divine! Hynne beheld Ah, lo! TWA ESSENCES O’ FYRE! BRYNEWIELMUM CAMPWUDA, Intangible, Untouchable, Impenetrable, baith Thay, O’er the Whole Uranic Skye-Arch, Their Skye-Dominion an’ Primordial Skye-Dignity Unco haudin’: The Essence o’ the ΛOΓΟΣ an’ the Essence o’ the REAL, Thay: STĪELENRA-HEÁÐUSIGELA FÝRBÆREAN GÆDERSCYPE OND GLÉDEGESA ÞĀ HLŪDE BECWÆDON, Twa! Tangible, Visible MICHTY SRANG SUNNES! Twa, hynne! Let me stylle noo distinctly remember! Unco Martially an' Norland Colourful! Great Orrah! Rotatin', Thay A'! Thay A'! Great Lone Sight o' mine! Splintered nae! Round Shields o' War Dazzlin': Ský Skǫglar frae the Auld Wondie Hólmganga, Thay! Frae Auld! Verra, indeed Verra primevaly Auld! Thro' Deep the Firey Tyme Conquerin', an' Ruthless, An' towardis the Fleysche, Fallacious hynne Mortal, unforgivin'! Crucial Gory Soil in yon 537 A.D. CAMLANN called Thad haes bin, IT! a Witness tae my ain Shed Battle-Bluid! BRYTENCYNING, IC WIÞGEHÆFTE HINE, BLÁCAN ÁNWÍGE, EFENLÍCAN GÚÐHERE BLÆDE, Meany, Meany Kingdomes, an' Onslaughts, A' Bluish-Ironclad Thay, ago!    Hynne noo, whileas Ah stylle speak, Immortal am, an' waes awready! Yet Thad nae, nae enough IT proved Afore the Presence Devastatin' o' the OVERMAN! Stylle, Ah knew, HE noo in waitin'! HE WHA! HE WHA! HE WHA unco: The Verra ENS! thro' the Dazzlin' Skye-Bluish Revenge o' HYS,   Hynne Mine! Tae the Yieldin' Ground o'ershadows! an' in an Ultimate Whyte War Flashin' tae Fathomless Eternity, in Gore Shinin' defeats! Intense Meanin' Primordial o' Battle Fierce baith Thae! Hynne unco embodyin', Afore thys, thro’ Verra Lowe penetratin’, An’ wi’ Hye, Verra, Verra Skye-Hye! Thundir-Bluid Thunderous Awa, awa flowin’ IT, orra! Loneliest Vision o’ mine: GEBYLD, When, Great Thundir’s Orrah! Wi’ a speed Wicked yet Prodigious, lo! Sublime, Closer, closer, wi’ the Impetus frae Twa Skye-Rams Wyld They orra cam! An’ in a Common Skye-Embrace! Their Dazzlin’ Blades o’ Vibrant Steel! Hynne crossin’, Thus unco, owre imbued waes, waes Ah! Wi' Thad Verra Hye Steel-Glare, Ah! Wi' Thad intae Deep Fyre afore Wounded Step o' Mine meltin', Feudal, unco Feudal Skye-Knowledge, an' Airn-Revenge! An' advanced wi' Firm Martial Gait hynne, towardis The Lonely Gleamin', Flashingly Firey, Rewb-Gem o' Moorlan War Forgotten, Thro' ITS Sheer Inner Foirce hynne unco Reddenin'! HERECIRME, RÉOD GIMCYNN, Whileas the Stellar Wynde silently ensued Frae Thad Last Titanic Encounter an’ Battle, Wi’ unco deafenin’ Core-Clash, Frae Thor’s His-sel, again, The Whispered Warlike Voice! Hynne intae Ane Nucleus Whyte At length blendin’, afore wnto me Noo orra comin’ IT: The Shield-Blinding: DÆGSCIELD GEBLENDAÞ For rendered orra, orra sightless! Waes Ah noo, Yet still able to distinctly behold, An’ e’en deeper, unco deeper! Great Warlike Orrah! The Verra Dazzlin’ Core, IT! Wi’ Verra Bluish Flash, an’ the Skye-Gore Frae Thundir-Eyes noo o’ mine Sheer Sharp, IT! For Thad Sudden Thundir-Blindin’ o’ Mine! Ah am noo taukin’ abowt, Great Dunnottar’s an’ Tantallon’s Orrah! Gift Supreme frae Hye the Zenith-Skye! Orra Skye-Generous hynne, IT! Intae an All-Powerful, unco All-Powerful, Ah say! An’ All-Seein’ Thundir-Force Thundir-O’erhuman, hynne frae the Thundir ‘Yont-Human! IT, in Hye Fyre! Skye-turned, An’ New Unknown Fiery Demons IT Orra, orra! unveiled: ÁGLÆCAN WUNDORSÉON, Athwart Noble Airn-Person o’ mine, Thro’ the Cauld Blast frae Thad Moorlan Wynde O’er an’ o’er fallin’, For the Verra Skye-Vision o’ the OVERMAN, Guid Orrah! Great Warlike Thundir’s Orrah! Unco Profound IT waes! An’ unco killed IT the Unprepared, For waes IT for nae Unworthy Skellum   To Feud an’ Sword Foreign! An’ the Whole Wnivers, in a Verra Flash, Thro’ the Same Auld an’ New Thunderbolt Ah waes lookin’ for, Penetrated IT orra waes: THE HERACLITEAN, DEVASTATINGLY PROPHETIC, IT! FIERY SKYE-FORCE! FRAE THE VERRA AIRN-PERSON STEEL-CONCRETE, IT! DAZZLINGLY 'YONT-TELLURIAN AN' SKYE-CENTRAL! O' THE OVERMAN: THE 'YONT-HUMAN HYNNE NAE HUMAN! THAD LIKE CONQUERIN', RAGIN' WHYTE-FYRE, WI'IN THE YIELDIN' MURKY MIRK VOID SHINES! INCANDESCENT O'ERHUMAN VERRA BODY! THAD MINE AIN, AH KNEW, SUNE AN' SYNE! UPON THAE BENS DREARY, IT SHALL, GREAT GUID ORRAH! BE! AN' WHA'S NOBLE AN' SOLEMN NAIM HYE! HYE! THE ETHER'S AIN SKYE-SUBSTANCE INTAE ALL-FERVID LOWES AN' METALLIC BRILLIANCY TURNIN' ΥΠΕΡ-ΚΕΡΑΥΝOΣ WAES! THUNDIR-CONSCIOUS, AN’ DIRECTIN’, THUNDIR-DESTROYIN’, HYNNE CRAETIN', O’ER ALL THUNDIR-DOMINATIN’, TO THE INFINITE UNCO THUNDIR-GROWIN’, MINE AIN BLUISH MOORLAN BLUID TO THE INFINITE ORRA THUNDIR-FEEDIN’, Together hynne wi’ my Arteries o’ Skye-Blue In Baith Spirit an’ the Verra Flow, When orra struck again waes Ah! Wnto Verra Death, an’ e’en ‘yont! waur e’en waur! Skye-Waur, Great Warlike Orrah! Towardis the Verra Dazzlin’ Skye-Weregild o’ Gowd: GOLDWEARDA FORNÉÐAN, For the Loneliest Vision o’ mine To in Fyre, still unco blinded Ah! Distinctly behold, At bein’ hynne, Great Warlike Orrah! The Sole Ironclad Witness O’ my by-gone Path Aflame, Intae ‘Yont-Human Will o’ mine! Noo unco forged, Great Hye Orrah! Wnto the Auld Bluid-Rock o’ Rebel Sacrifice Far awa! in the Snowy Caucasus Nae longer IT chained! HRINGUM SWEORCAN, Meanwhile, lo! At my Mirk Cloaked Back, Behold ye! Another Identical Skye-Fusion! For Twa Dazzlin’ Whyte Glows, Symmetrical Unco Mirrors They, As if frae Myrddin’s ain Magic, To View o’ mine orra appeared: Perfect Pow’r o’ Infinite Reflection, They! Mine ain Past, my ain Future! Baith embodyin’, An’ waes stylle Ah! Intae the Verra Middle o’ the Glare Standin’ Wi’ Gleamin’ Claymore drawn, Dearest o’ mine! Thundir-Hurt stylle, afore noo the Destroyer of the Past: ÍSIGE CWYLMING An’ noo, Guid, Verra, Verra Guid o’ Gowd Warlike Orrah! Thus willed Ah! the OVERMAN! BISENE WRECEND, Freish an’ Auld! Airn-Feudal an’ Strang! DUGUÞMIHTUM OND HEORUSWENGE, ĒACEN BIÞ ŌFER-MANN, Wi’ Michty Inner Energy o’ mine Great Feudal Orrah! unco Alone! Wha's Sole Hye Naim Firey OVERWILL! IT unco, oan the Gory Battlefield, Ah weall knew IT waes! Frae the Verra Skye-Dragun! A' Destroyin' hynne HE! Intae the Deep Fyre, wi' HYS Beastly Wings thus orra spread, Unco, prodigiously o'er A' HE hoverin', Towardis the Past allwayes Dreadful e'en, hynne! Wi’ HYS Scales o’ Enraged Gowd, The Shinin’ Horror wi’in the Skye, IT! FÝRDRACAN GLÆD GRYREBRÓGA SÉ FORÞGEWITENNESSE UNWYRCÐ, Skye-Perfect! intae the Mirror-Glare Image o' mine, HE! The OVERMAN o' Deep Fyre, Th'gither wi' my ain Reflected Bluid, hynne! Noo, in Feudal Tartane-War stylle thundir-flowin'! More intensely! o'er an' o'er in Steel hynne, HYS Supreme Presence greatly tae the Infinite! Orra skye-increasing! Intae the noo Unleashed Skye-Pow’r! Unto my Wounded Spirit o'er an' o'er Hynne HE skye-returnin’! As ane wi’ the Moorlan Rumblin’ Thunderbolt Ah waes lookin’ for, The Sacral Dazzlin’ Chain Mail Ablaze: SCÉAWERE-HRÉOH, In the Skye-Identity e'en most Skye-Asolute IT! My ain! HE orra, unco flashingly wearin’, Thus willed Ah! Past o’ mine back IT! In Feudal Person o’ HYS, my ain! empowered: GORY GHAIST! by-gone Immortal o’ mine IT! Still orra Alive an’ Fiery! Flowin’ an’ flashin’ Thad not Identical unto ITSELF IT waes! Hynne unto ITSELF most identical! Quhenne! in Feudal Airn-Flesh o’ HYS, Great Warlike Orrah! Thro’ Ragin’ Skye an’ Earthly Pride at once IT, Most fleshily, intae Hye Fyre Purifin’ Waes incarnated, Thus willed Ah, Future o’ mine, tae, hynne! Wi’ the Iyce Cross o’er Moorlan Coat o’ Arms, Frae Noble Dundarg’s Hye Wa, In Feudal Steel, Greater, unco Greater IT! Shimmerin’, For the Past lived in the Verra Bluid o’ HYS, Thynce thro' Hye Firey Gore Immortal:   FULMINE VICTOR MAGNUS INVICTUSQUE OVERMAN Let me Thys, NOBLE GLAMIS’ GREAT ORRAH! Truly, unco truly yell! waes IT potentiated, An’ sae waes the Future, stylle my Verra, Verra Ain! Wnto Dazzlin’ Airn-Bosom o’ mine   Wi’ Increasin’ Ocean’s Rage Tempestuous Fore’er returnin’, CRÆFTUM OND RÝNE STÍELE! BEADUWÆPEN, Intae Single Will O’erhuman An’ Unforgivin’ Continuum, as Ane, Whare Ye! Dearest Hye Thundir o’ mine! At the Verra Skye-Zenith, Still silently dwell!   Hynne willed Ah! my ain Image Frae the Past! Frae the Future! wi’ unco Force, At once IT emergin’, Towardis the Past! Towardis the Future! wi’ orra Dignity, At once IT rushin’, Intae the Implacable Spiral o’ Becomin’ Thad Ane wi’ the Verra Vortex o’ Return IT! Great Warlike Orrah! waes, The Past burnin’, the Future hynne IT affirmin’, An’ unto the Verra Skye-Core! GREAT HÖÐR’S AN’ WOTAN’S ORRAH! Directed, Noo afore my ain wi’ Fyre Wounded Eyes, Thro’ each Revolution, ITS unco Strength, Great Warlike Norland Orrah! Unto the Fathomless Fiery Infinite Increasin’: The Verra Mountayn Thunderbolt! Ah waes lookin’ for, For the Increase o’ Pow’r ne’er Identical Unto itself IT waes, Hynne waes unto Itself most identical! As noo met wi’ Ah THE DESTROYER O’ THE PAST, THE CREATOR O’ THE FUTURE, O’ LYFE FORE’ER CHANGIN’ THE GREAT AFFIRMATOR, HYE SKYE-VEINS O’ HYS O’ERHUMAN, MY AIN! THE IRONCLAD INCARNATOR AN’ THE FEUDAL WITNESS! O’ MY BURNAN MOUNTAYN-PATH DYIN’: THUNDIR-FRAME O’ MINE, HE! STRONGER! STRONGER! O’ER AN’ O’ER, UNTO MY BY-GONE DAYS BLEEZAN, AN’ THE ROARAN’ FUTURE! AS MOLTEN SKYE-GOWD INCORRUPTIBLE NOO RETURNIN’, WHAR IMMORTALITY ITSELF HYNNE, IN FORE’ER INCRESIN’ HYE FYRE AN’ BATTLE-GORE, O’ERSHADOWED IT WAES,   INTAE DEEP THE WHYTE SPIRAL, SKYE-RECURRENCE INCANDESCENT, IT! ANE WI’ THE LONE IRONCLAD IMAGE UNTO VERRA, VERRA PERFECTION! SKYE-SPECULAR O' MINE! SCORCHIN' AN' SHININ' AN' UNCO TANGIBLE, HE! THE CLOAKED SKYE-FIGURE THAD WAES NOO 'YONT THAD AULD FORGOTTEN WA, MY BLEEDIN' SKYE-COURAGE IN WARLIKE SILENCE AWAITIN', FRAE THE DEPTHS O' THE ROTATIN’ SKYE-ENERGY, WEALHFÆRELDES DÆGWÓMA, PROUDLY AN' INVINCIBLY SKYE-STANDIN'! WHAR, GUID SKYE ORRAH! FIERY WOE INTAE FEUDAL STEEL MELTIN', DEEPER AN' NOBLER IT PROVED! AN’ WI’ DAZZLIN' SKYE-REVENGE O'ER AN' O'ER, GREAT THOR'S ORRAH! IT SUPREMELY, IN BLUISH NORLAND AIRN FLASHED! For, lo! the Verra Blank frae the Past Together wi’ ITS Inevitable Feud-Foreign Woe Hauntin’ Thad cannae be avoided hynne! Mirk an’ Invisible, IT! It nae longer existed! It nae longer existed! For unco filled noo IT waes By the Devourin’ Lone Lowe an’ the Verra Frame: The Chain-Mailed, Heated in Airn War-Wame O’ THE OVERMAN! HE: WILL, AS THE VERRA INNER ENERGY! VIGOUR, AS THE VERRA INNER WILL! FRAE THE PAST, FRAE THE FUTURE! TANGIBLE, VISIBLE, INCARNATED, NOBLE WYLD DRAGON, SKYE-BEAST O’ MINE, GRYREBRÓGA OND FÆRGRYRE, WUNDORA WYRM! ÚHT-SCEAÞA HÉ! FYRE-WOUNDED IN NAE GOWD-CAGE, HE! O'ER SKYE-SPIRIT O' MINE, HE! HYNNE, UNCO SKYE-FLYIN'! WI’ HYS SKYE-GORE O’ER THE BARS INVISIBLE TRULY MINE AIN! GREAT GUID ORRAH! DOWNE, DOWNE! NOO LIKE THE PUREST RHODIUM WI' THE FYRE-BLUISH SKYE-ARTERIES O' THE LONE THUNDERBOLT AH WAES LOOKIN' FOR AGAIN UNCO BLENDIN', Unto at Braemar the Verra Battle-Gore, Afore the Lang Hour, in Kyng Eochaid’s Martial Hidden Lore, By the Force o’ Flowin’ Lava Frae the Cauld an’ Dreary Highlands Implacable Echoin’ Thad Becomin’ as Increase in Pow’r IT, Great, Great Orrah! waes, Backwards intae Tyme! Intae the Future hynne! For the OVERWILL kan IT! Destroye the Feud-Foreign Gory Bygane! When o’er the Gleamin’ Skye-Cuirass O’ the HYE OVERMAN ALONE! IT lies visible an’ yieldin’ an’ razed an’ burnin'! When o’er the New Soil o’ Dazzlin’ Alabaster Conquerin’ Intae Deep the Future, thro’ Renewed Rage An' yon Incandescent Skye-Thundir! Ah waes lookin' for, HE! My Specular Skye-Incarnation! Fore'er orra creates! Whileas thae words, in Roaran’ Wreððe, Flame-Wounded, Ah still loudly whisper, But lo! Great Warlike Orrah! THE IYCE CROSS FIREY O’er Mirk War-Tartan, Dearest o’ mine! Next to Dundarg’s Hye Wa, Ah well remember! Embroidered, Close to my Ruby Brooch strangely IT, Unco strangely, like a Verra Premonition Gleamed, afore noo The Mirror-Fusion: WĒOHES MELTAN When, lo! Airn an’ Thundir! Great Immortal Warlike Orrah! Thro’ the Loud Whisper o’ the Thundir Ah waes lookin’ for,   The Image o’ the OVERMAN Detached ITSELF, lo! Frae baith the Surfaces in the Twa Opposed Mirrors: Frae baith thae Reflectin' Skye-Furnaces Gleamin'! Afore Noble Feudal Person o' mine, Unco Sightless! Still unco Skye-Sightless! E'en more! noo unco Sightless! HE hynne, orra Ah beheld cam! Wha’s Supreme Hieland Emanatin’ Force Frae the Directin’ Skye-Lightnin’, IT! Ah waes lookin’ for, Na orra, orra Prodigious Sight! Nae e’en Vör’s, or Heimdallur’s, or Snotra’s Ain! If nae in Thundir Skye-Blinded as noo Mine! Cuid, cuid IT! humanly, still tae humanly!   This noo Ah! in Thad Skye-Fyre ‘Yont-Human! Soarin’ heare in Dignity o’er Tap o’ Noth’s Black Vitreous Smeddum an’ Cauld Martial Sand, Cannae, cannae doubt! Thro’ Thad Flashin’ Skye-Reflection withstand, Frae the Past! frae the Future, hynne! Great Warlike Orrah! To encounter Spirit Ablaze o’ mine, To Unleash Wyld Beast Immortal Thad My Verra Mountayn Path   Guarded still, Some Bluish Bluid Stains IT leavin’ O’er the Michty an’ Pure Glass still: My ain! frae the Clash o’ Life,   An’ noo! Great, Great Warlike Orrah! A LIGHNIN’-SHADE IRONCLAD! Unto me, ITS Skye-Bluish Garb o’ Hye Skye-War! In an Identity an’ Heat, e’en the Most Absolute! To Verra Perfection reflectin', Towardis Feudal Person o’ mine IT noo! Wi’ Slow Skye-Gait, Devastatingly, IT advanced, An’ when afore me at length IT standin’, Thro’ the Loud Sound o’ the Thundir, lo! Ah waes still lookin’ for, In a Great Whoosh an’ Roaran’ Rumble Non-Human Deep Voice, IT! Frae the Past! Frae the Future! Frae the Verra Brunan’ Throat O’ the LIGHTNIN’ HIS-SEL! Ah waes still looking for, Wi’ Spiral Exhalations unner the Form, schorcin’ IT! O’ Just Anger frae Primeval hynne Most Real Forgotten Feudal Lore The Hand-to-hand Wapin-Storm Harsh! An’ Skye-Revenge, still Mine Ain! Unco an’ owre loaded, As Maddenin’ Heated-Airn, IT again! Unto the Cauld Blue Vault o’ the Verra Skye Wi’ orra, orra Dignity Lonely risin’,   Thae Verra Syllables! The VERRA SKYE-INCARNATOR O'ERHUMAN! Intae Deep noo, Great Orrah! The Abysmal Skye-Core Bluish-Aflame, IT! o' the Total Specular Skye-Force: BRYNEWELMES WORDHLÉOÐOR The Skye-Conscience, Víðarr-Hye o’ mine! Most distinctly! Great Warlike Orrah! HE, THE BLUISH INCARNATION HYE O' THE HYE LIGHTNIN' ITSELF! Ah waes lookin' for, Wi' a Skye-Cowntenance Storm-Hidden Flashin’ frae Deep the Obscured Skye-Mirk Thro’ a Battle-Scar intae the Fyre gleamin' O'er HYS left Sword-Offended Cheek: Thys cuid Ah! unco Blinded, see! Intae Deep the Skye-Unknown, Still, Great Guid Glamis’ Orrah! Stick-an-stowe a Wonner, Mine Ain! Thro' HYS remarkably Echoin', Non-human, hynne 'Yont human! VERRA SKYE-RUMBLIN'! Noo unco earthily uttered: YE, WOLF-WOUNDED! AN’ PROUD, IN BLACK TARTAN O’ WAR MUFFLED, KEEK AT ME! KEEK AT ME NOO! IN NAE TAE EARTHLY TOWMOND! DO NOO HYNNE LISTEN TAE ME! YE, NOO FYRE-IRONCLAD WOUNDED! THE HYE NORLAND GODS INTAE OWRE FYRE STYLLE HYNNE HONORIN'! BETTYR BIDE AN' DIE OAN THE NOBLE BATTLEFIELD GORY, AN' STYLLE, 'YONT BAITH LIEFES AN' DEATH, FORE'ER ALIVE HYNNE BE! THEYNE BIDE A MISERABLE LIEFES! WULFE BLŌDGA HEONAN! ÞŪ BLADESUNGA OND LÉOMENA HEOFONFYR, WACA BYRNSWEORDES WIÐ GEHATUM! FOR DAINGEROUS! VERRA, INTAE THE FEUDAL FYRE DEEP, IT! DAINGEROUS! MUST TREOWE IDEAS, IN VERRA HYE LOWES, BE! FOR THE VERRA MICHTY, WHYTE ZENITH-SUNNE AN' THE ALLWAYES UNKOWN MIRK DEATH! THE SAME THAY! GREAT THOR'S NORLAND ORRAH! ARE, FOR THE SELECTED FEUDAL MAN, IRONCLAD HE! AS YE, IN THAE HYE LOWES, UNCO ARE! NOO AFORE ME! INTAE THE AULD LONE TARGE-REFLECTION THAD IS, WAES, AN' SHALL IT BE, THINE! HYNNE, HEARE AH AM! FOR FRAE THE AULD SHIELD-MIRROR YER RICHTE SKYE-VENGENCE! FOR YER AIN SKYE-FORM AFORE YE HATH RISEN NOO! FOR FREISH VALUES ARE NOO OWRE NEEDED! WI'IN DEEP PRIMAL SKYE-FYRE UNCO SKYE-LIVED! SAE, SKYE-LIVE THAIM! UNCO DRAM THAIM A’! WHATE'ER THE RISK INFERNAL, AN' MOORLAN AMBUSH! GÁSTCWALE HELRÚNENA FORNÉÐAN, THRO’ HYE BLUISH SKYE-LOWES, SKYE-DESTROYIN’ THAY WI’IN YER AIN LONE SKYE-VOICE IT NOO! FRAE AFARRE! FRAE UNCO AFARRE RUMBLIN’, FOR CURSED IS THE FLEETIN' HOUR! AN' SAE MUST BE CONQUERED, IT! GREAT ORRAH! AYE! IN YER SUPERIOR BLUID NOO O'ERHUMAN, MINE AIN! FOR BRANDED HAE AH RUDDY SKYE-FLESH O’ MINE THAD WAES, IS, AN’ SHALL IT BE! BY THYS VERRA, VERRA SKYE-IMAGE HYNNE, YER AIN! WI’ THE IYCE-CROSS FIERY FRAE HYE THE THUNDIR’S LOUD VOICE, IN NAE WHISPER DAMNABLE, NOR AIRN-FOREIGN! AH NOO ORRA TELL: YER SYMMETRICAL LONE SKYE-FORCE: THE VERRA LONE THUNDIR-BLUID! YER AIN LONE SKYE-WRAITH IRONCLAD! THRO' ETERNAL SKYE-POW’R, AN' OUT O’ THE BLUISH LONE SKYE-REVENGE O’ER AN’ O’ER UNCO, O’ERHUMANLY MIRRORIN’! TO YE HYNNE OWRE IN DEEP FYRE RETURNIN’, YER AIN WANTIN’ SKYE-HALF, HYNNE! TH'GITHER WI’ YER SKYE-SPIRIT! IN HYE LOWES NOO UNTO THE CORE SKYE-DABBED! A' THIS! A’ THIS! AH SAY! AH TRULY YELL! TH'GITHER WI' THE LAST SKYE-PRIZE! INTAE HYE THE SKYE-BLAZE, THE HAIL ENEMY LAND HARSH NOO FRAE CAULD HORIZON TO CAULD HORIZON OWRE CROSSIN’, A' THIS! A' THIS! AH ALLON, TRULY! YER MIRROR SKYE-DOWBILL IMMORTAL! THRO' STEEL CORE-METALLIC, IN HYE SKYE-FYRE AM! ABYSMAL LAVA-BLUID O’ MINE! FLOWIN’ FRAE HYE RED HEL, IT! THY LANE BEHOLD! YER AIN! INTAE DEEP THE FUSION-GLARE, BLASTED SKYE-FURNACE IT! UNREACHABLE, UNFATHOMABLE, MOST TANGIBLE, IT! THE VERRA FRAME LESURELY, NEXT TO YE IN BATTLE STROLLIN’! THE LONE INCARNATION AN’ THE SKYE-ROAR FRAE THE VERRA THUNDERBOLT YE WERE LOOKIN’ FOR HYNNE YER FUTURE, YER BYGANE: NAE DIFFERENCE! THAA ARE MINE AIN! INTAE THE HYE FYRE, FRAE YER TANGIBLE SKYE-WILL! THAD AH NOO HEARE AM, FOR SKYE-ENERGY CANNAE DERIVE FRAE NOTHINGNESS! NOR UNTO NOTHINGNESS KIN IT RETURN! HYNNE WILL, 'YONT DEATH, THRO' THE LANG AN’ BLUISH SKYE-LOWE YE WERE LOOKIN’ FOR, IMMORTAL AS CONQUERIN' PROVES, STILL, WI'IN RAGIN' AN' VISCERAL DEEP PRIMAL FYRE, YER AIN! FOR YE SHALL STILL LIVE YER LIFE AGAIN,   THIS TYME INTAE THE HYE SKYE-POW'R! WI' ITS NEW ESSENCE SELF-OVERCOME, HYNNE DO UNCO LIVE NOO! THAD VERRA GORE HEARE, FRAE MY BLEEZAN OPEN SCARS, YER AIN! FOR THE WORN PAST DWELLS DEFEATED IN THE FUTURE AS EMPOW'RED! INTAE THE STEEL-BLUISH IMAGE AH HEARE AM! NOO AFORE THINE SKYE-BLINDED EYES THRO' THE LONE HYE LOWE WOUNDED, THAD ARE ALSO MINE! IN NAE SPECTRAL FYRE, HYNNE! STICK-AN-STOWE, AN' VERRA VERRA SUNE! YER AIN! WI'IN THE HYE ZENITH-THUNDIR HYNNE, YE WERE LOOKIN' FOR, O'ER AN' O'ER FORE'ER LIVIN',   AN' THRO' THE HIELAND FLOWIN 'LAVA: THE BECOMIN' IN POW'R FORE'ER RENEWED THRO' THAD SKYE-BLUID HYNNE!   FLASHINGLY STREAMIN' AS A CONQUERIN' WYLD FYRE-RIVER FRAE NOBLE HYNNE SUPERIOR GORE, DOWNE, DOWNE! INTAE THE VERRA WHYTE CHASM, AN' FLASHIN' ABYSS! FRAE YON SHARP AN' SHININ' AN' TOWERIN' MIRK ROCKS! AN' THIS SACRIFICIAL BLUISH BLUID INCANDESCENT FRAE O'ERHUMAN LIFE STILL WOUNDED, MINE! WAES, AN' IS, AN' SHALL IT BE! BEHOLD YE! UNCO SEE YE, NOO! YE, O'ERHUMANLY BLINDED! HE WHA! THE DREARY VOID O' DARKNESS CANNAE, CANNAE! IN ANY MANNER NOO KNOW! HYNNE IN HIELAND SKYE-RAGE, AN' HYE! O'ER THE FEUDAL THRONE IMMORTAL, AN' HEARE! OAN THE SURFACE O' THIS SKYE-MIRROR! WAES, AN' IS, AN' SHALL IT BE! WI'IN THE MELTIN' UNTO THE COSMIC CORE SKYE-GLARE, YER AIN! AN' NOO! DO ADVANCE! DO TAKE A STROLL INTAE THE HYE SKYE-GORE! GANG AYONT! GANG AYONT! AH SAY! 'YONT EVERYTHING! ‘YONT LIFE AN’ DEATH E’EN! GANG AYONT! AN' WHATE SHALL YE IN THE END SEE? AT THE BOTTOM O' THE WHYTE CHASM FIERY? YER FLASHIN' IN AIRN IMAGE ALONE! THAD IS MINE AIN! HEE HAW, HEE HAW ELSE, AH SAY! WI’IN THE SPECULAR SKYE-POW'R INCARNATED, THE VERRA SUM AN’ COMMUNION O’ THE ETERNAL TENSIONS IN BECOMIN’ DWELLIN’ AH HEARE AM! THRO’ THE LOUD SING FRAE THE THUNDIR HYNNE! BY HYE SKYE-VENGEANCE FORE’ER INCREASIN', O'ER AN' O'ER TO YER SPIRIT HYNNE RETURNIN', YERS HYNNE MINE! When noo, Great Warlike Orrah! Upon thae Verra Words, thro’ my Ain By noo Thundir-Voice! In an' unco Skye-Rumblin', Wi'in Thad O'erhuman Blaze wi' hye force condensin' Intae a NEW THUNDIR-FRAME Skye-Concrete In aspects o' PURE BLUISH HEAT! HUMAN ALTOGETHER NAE LONGER, IT! tone, Ah distinctly hearin’, When noo, Guid Sundrum's Orrah! The Fyre-Bringer: FÝRHEARD HEREWULF OND HEREWÆÐA A Thoosan Black Banners, in Hye Glorious Lowes, Orra issuin’, An’ wnto yon Whyte Chasm the Salute wavin’, Wi’ the Hue o’ Red-Hel IT imbuin’, HE, Hynne Ah: the Freish an’ Auld Titan Far awa, far awa! wi'in the Dreary Caucasus! Frae ayont yon Suthron, hynne! Ah kin clearly see! Rebel hynne Creator, HE! HE, Creator hynne Rebel! The OVERMAN! comin’ o’er, still approachin’, Intae noo deep the Skye-Dance Everlastin’ Thro’ HYS AIN hynne MINE Skye-Thunderous Sound Ah waes lookin’ for, Dominatin’, Frae Thae Simmetrical Verra Fyre-Mirrors! Still glarin’ Ne’er e’er to yield, the Twa Skye-Surfaces! Nor in human, tae human! Unco Gory Misery, nor Skye-Foreign Blasphemy, Nor Damnable an' Cowardly Affront To e'er wane! At length thro' the Hye Vigour Supreme Frae the Overwill Alone! Dearest o’ Mine! Inner Energy Abysmal: Still Uknown, IT! An’ in Skye-Reverge freed! A Thoosan Black Banners, in Fyre, Ah say! HE, hynne Ah issuin’, When noo, Great Guid Orrah! The Skye-Bluid o' the OVERMAN: Theis! oan Thae Countless Mirk Banners floatin' In Hye Honour o' the Zenith-Sunne! Wi'in abysmal whyte runes waes noo graven, Hye Selective an' Skye-Supreme proved! Nae, nae IT, for all! For nae everybody is worth withstandin' The Return o' Pow'r's Noble, an' Flashin' Supreme Force, an' Infinite Speed, an' Spiral Revolution! CÁFNES ÞRÝÞBORD, Tae the Skye-Limitless fore’er, In the Form o’ Hye Steel Feudal Skye-soarin’, ITS Verra Great, Verra Guid, Great Guid Auld Carham’s Orrah! Burnan Wheill o’ Universal Core-Energy Skye-Central, Skye-Abysmal, IT! Alongside the Rational Force frae the Thundir-Impetus Thad waes, is, an’ shall IT be the OVERMAN’S AIN! In Hye Lowes increasin’, Tae the Skye-Infinite, hynne! Most Renewed, most Identical, Intae the Verra Spiral most Empowered! The Worthy ENS, unco hynne Joyful, IT! Immortal owre feastin’, For intae Thae Rapid Coils o' Glorious Fyre hynne, Frae Thys MICHTY TARGE O' SKYE-ENERGY PERENNIAL! Nae for all! Immortality is solemnly worth Thro' Thad Increasingly Growin' Feudal Skye-Rebirth Steel-Mirrorin'! Wnto ragefully Bluish-Ablaze an' Core-Feudal Noble Hye Perfection! An' in Eternal Steel Unconditional, IT! Dwellin', The Human, tae Human! Gory Chains o’ Promethean Slavery Bluish wi’ the Verra Reverberation Frae the Lightnin’ O’erhuman Ah waes lookin’ for, They suddely becam! An’ at length, Great Warlike Orrah! The Lonesome Blindin’ Frame o’ Gowd, Wha’s Sole Hye Thundir-Naim Overman Skye: SCEAWERES IREN-EALWEALDA IT orra waes! Frae the Twa Dazzlin' Mirrors In Perfect Symmetry emanated wi’in The RETURN O’ POW’R! Burnan’ Vortex-Event Universal, IT! In Slender Lines o’ Whyte Fyre, The Verra Core Heat Reachin’, Intae Infinite Reflections o’ Primordial Pow’r Frae the Twa Lookin' Glasses, Blindin' They! O’er All, Great, Great IT! Njörður's ain Battle Orrah! Limitless Dominion, an’ the Feudal Rule Steel-haudin’, WHILEAS WAES AH! WAES AH! GUID, VERRA GUID EILEAN DONAN'S WAR-TARTAN ORRAH! STYLLE CHAINED IN BLUISH GORE, MY AIN! HYNNE THE OVERMAN'S AIN, TAE! WNTO THE AULD AN' HYE! VERRA SKYE-HYE, IT! THUNDIR-GLEAMIN' BLUID-ROCK O' SKYE-SACRIFYCE: NAE LONGER! NAE ORRA SKYE-LONGER! An’ ITS central Rays an’ the Verra Lowes Intae Ane Flashin’ Ironclad ***** Polarizin’, A Thoosan Tymes Greater, Mightier hynne: The OVERMAN! O’er an’ o’er unto me returnin’, ‘Yont the Reddenin’ Pillars o’ Immortal Skye-Renown! ‘Yont Death, the Mirk Unknown! An’ ITS Feud-Foreign Fear, Whyle, lo! the Steel-Vibration gleamin’ Frae Máni's ain Verra Crescent, Dusky-Red, IT! Waes, waes, in yon Murky West Still IT unco risin', Unfathomable, an' Potent, an' Dreary, Unto the Stane Circles’ Builders Wounded frae Life, at Skara Brae, Appearin’, At right angles to the Chain-Mailed ***** Noo orra descedin’ To cross the Region o’ the Heart: Let IT fall intae the Verra Abyss! Yet the Sceadewe! Great Wotan's Orrah! ÓÐENES HÁLIGE CRAWE, IT stylle leisurely stood, In Hys Mirk Bluid Bleedin’, Crossed hynne by the Verra Thunderbolt! Ah waes lookin’ for, An’ Hys, frae Kyng Rædwald the Gift! Mask o’ War IT, lo! Wi’ Black Fyre bleedin’, Upon the Cauld Soil, together wi’ Hys Cloak, Waes IT thrown, Hynne Hys Mirk Warlike Self unveilin’, Still Mine Ain! Nae Gory Fear! tae owre hide: SCEAD UNDER HELME HEARD BIÞ, MĪN FORESCÝWA RÉADAÞ.
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Och! Airn an' Thwndir! An' Urquhart's Wae Verra Hel! Great Warlike Glamis' Firey, An' Hwmyd Loch Doon's Orrah! Downe! Downe! tae thad howch owre miserable! Ye a' swithe hame, hame! wae ma Airn *** An' weile 'yont yondir Suthron! Waefu', waefu' heyre Ah! War-Ironclad heyne Ȝell, Wae burr-thistle’s Gowlin’ Storne Micht! Frae ma verra, verra! Ah ageyne! Tae the Cauld Enraged Wynde Unco! intae Æternall Battle Scorchin' Towardis Moorlan Chain Mail-Bosom o' mine! O'er an' o'er IT! increasingly thro' Force returnin', Wae ma verra Blacklyn Tartan o' War heyne, An' Silvery Brooch, wi'in yondir Lone Sceadewe! Unco! wae the Rubye Stane deep-shimmerin' Naixt tae Carham's Gory Landis, an' the Targe-Hell, Thro’ nowe Tune Martial, stick-an-stowe Ȝell! Airn-Curse Core-Firey, Hye-Flamin' IT! Heyne unco rychte Airn-Moorlan o'er ye a'! Ah, bye nowe the FEUDAL OWAR-MANN! 'Yont thad Auld Whunstane Tower-Shrine Togider wae Lang Titanium-Claymore, Airn-Dazzlin' An' ne'er, ne'er, IT! stick-an-stowe tae wane! Wi'in theis Bluish Fyre syne! Verra War-Swaird Rairan IT, Intae Thae Hringiren Æternall, Thwndir-Devastatin' o' mine! QVOAD FEODALE MEA CVM RVBRA SPATHA ET RELVCENTE HOC SCVTO AC FVLMINE NIVEO SCOTORVM INTRA HANC TEMPESTATEM MAGNAM QVÆ FLOS IGNEVS EST TONITRVO NOMINE ALTO NEMO GELIDO HOC LOCO IMPVNE ME LACESSIT.
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Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 4:42 AM UTC
hermes-varini
Gowlin’ Storne
Och! Airn an' Thwndir! An' Urquhart's Wae Verra Hel! Great Warlike Glamis' Firey, An' Hwmyd Loch Doon's Orrah! Downe! Downe! tae thad howch owre miserable! Ye a' swithe hame, hame! wae ma Airn *** An' weile 'yont yondir Suthron! Waefu', waefu' heyre Ah! War-Ironclad heyne Ȝell, Wae burr-thistle’s Gowlin’ Storne Micht! Frae ma verra, verra! Ah ageyne! Tae the Cauld Enraged Wynde Unco! intae Æternall Battle Scorchin' Towardis Moorlan Chain Mail-Bosom o' mine! O'er an' o'er IT! increasingly thro' Force returnin', Wae ma verra Blacklyn Tartan o' War heyne, An' Silvery Brooch, wi'in yondir Lone Sceadewe! Unco! wae the Rubye Stane deep-shimmerin' Naixt tae Carham's Gory Landis, an' the Targe-Hell, Thro’ nowe Tune Martial, stick-an-stowe Ȝell! Airn-Curse Core-Firey, Hye-Flamin' IT! Heyne unco rychte Airn-Moorlan o'er ye a'! Ah, bye nowe the FEUDAL OWAR-MANN! 'Yont thad Auld Whunstane Tower-Shrine Togider wae Lang Titanium-Claymore, Airn-Dazzlin' An' ne'er, ne'er, IT! stick-an-stowe tae wane! Wi'in theis Bluish Fyre syne! Verra War-Swaird Rairan IT, Intae Thae Hringiren Æternall, Thwndir-Devastatin' o' mine! QVOAD FEODALE MEA CVM RVBRA SPATHA ET RELVCENTE HOC SCVTO AC FVLMINE NIVEO SCOTORVM INTRA HANC TEMPESTATEM MAGNAM QVÆ FLOS IGNEVS EST TONITRVO NOMINE ALTO NEMO GELIDO HOC LOCO IMPVNE ME LACESSIT.
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32
__Three Scottish hags brew up a political storm in a...cauldron.__
0
Aug 29, 2020
Aug 29, 2020 at 6:15 PM UTC
annh
Macbeth In Haste
__Three Scottish hags brew up a political storm in a...cauldron.__
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1
Play mae, auld moorlan wise, Wi' thy martial Steel Lyre, The enraged Sound of the Thunder, While ah shall be, again, In nae unworthy mare, Wi' Targe Shield and Dagger, Rising nae fellow-mortal, Amid thoosan deadly onslaughts, Ironclad frae the Fire!
0
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 3:36 AM UTC
hermes-varini
Steel Lyre
Play mae, auld moorlan wise, Wi' thy martial Steel Lyre, The enraged Sound of the Thunder, While ah shall be, again, In nae unworthy mare, Wi' Targe Shield and Dagger, Rising nae fellow-mortal, Amid thoosan deadly onslaughts, Ironclad frae the Fire!
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9
Lament for the Makaris ("Lament for the Makers/Poets") by William Dunbar [c. 1460-1530] loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch i who enjoyed good health and gladness am overwhelmed now by life’s terrible sickness and enfeebled with infirmity ... how the fear of Death dismays me! our presence here is mere vainglory; the false world is but transitory; the flesh is frail; the Fiend runs free ... how the fear of Death dismays me! the state of man is changeable: now sound, now sick, now blithe, now dull, now manic, now devoid of glee ... how the fear of Death dismays me! no state on earth stands here securely; as the wild wind shakes the willow tree, so wavers this world’s vanity ... how the fear of Death dismays me! Death leads the knights into the field (unarmored under helm and shield) sole Victor of each red mêlée ... how the fear of Death dismays me! that strange, despotic Beast tears from its mother’s breast the babe, full of benignity ... how the fear of Death dismays me! He takes the champion of the hour, the captain of the highest tower, the beautiful damsel in full flower ... how the fear of Death dismays me! He spares no lord for his elegance, nor clerk for his intelligence; His dreadful stroke no man can flee ... how the fear of Death dismays me! artist, magician, scientist, orator, debater, theologist, must all conclude, so too, as we: “how the fear of Death dismays me!” in medicine the most astute sawbones and surgeons all fall mute; they cannot save themselves, or flee ... how the fear of Death dismays me! i see the Makers among the unsaved; the greatest of Poets all go to the grave; He does not spare them their faculty ... how the fear of Death dismays me! i have seen the Monster pitilessly devour our noble Chaucer, poetry’s flower, and Lydgate and Gower (great Trinity!) ... how the fear of Death dismays me! since He has taken my brothers all, i know He will not let me live past the fall; His next victim will be—poor unfortunate me!— how the fear of Death dismays me! there is no remedy for Death; we all must prepare to relinquish breath so that after we die, we may be set free from “the fear of Death dismays me!” This is my modern English translation of "Lament for the Makaris," an elegy by the great early Scottish poet William Dunbar [c. 1460-1530]. Dunbar was a court poet in the household of King James IV of Scotland. The Makaris were "makers," or poets. The original poem is a form of danse macabre, or "dance of death," in which people of all social classes are summoned by Death. The poem has a refrain: every fourth line is the Latin phrase "timor mortis conturbat me" ("the fear of death dismays me" or "disturbs/confounds me"). The poem was probably composed around 1508 A.D., when Dunbar was advancing in age and perhaps facing the prospect of death himself (it is not clear exactly when he died). In his famous poem Dunbar mentions other poets who passed away, including Geoffrey Chaucer, John Lydgate, and John Gower. Dunbar is generally considered to have been the greatest Scottish poet before Robert Burns, and he is noted for his comedies, satires, and sometimes ribald language. Keywords/Tags: Dunbar, translation, Scottish, dialect, Scotland, lament, makaris,  makers, poets, mrbtr, danse, macabre, refrain, Latin, timor, mortis, conturbat, dirge, lamentation, eulogy, epitaph, death, dismay, sorrow, fear, terror, writing, death, evil, sympathy, sorrow Sunset by Michael R. Burch This poem is dedicated to my grandfather, George Edwin Hurt Between the prophecies of morning and twilight’s revelations of wonder, the sky is ripped asunder. The moon lurks in the clouds, waiting, as if to plunder the dusk of its lilac iridescence, and in the bright-tentacled sunset we imagine a presence full of the fury of lost innocence. What we find within strange whorls of drifting flame, brief patterns mauling winds deform and maim, we recognize at once, but cannot name.
0
Jun 6, 2020
Jun 6, 2020 at 10:29 PM UTC
michael-r-burch
William Dunbar "Lament for the Makaris" translation
Lament for the Makaris ("Lament for the Makers/Poets") by William Dunbar [c. 1460-1530] loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch i who enjoyed good health and gladness am overwhelmed now by life’s terrible sickness and enfeebled with infirmity ... how the fear of Death dismays me! our presence here is mere vainglory; the false world is but transitory; the flesh is frail; the Fiend runs free ... how the fear of Death dismays me! the state of man is changeable: now sound, now sick, now blithe, now dull, now manic, now devoid of glee ... how the fear of Death dismays me! no state on earth stands here securely; as the wild wind shakes the willow tree, so wavers this world’s vanity ... how the fear of Death dismays me! Death leads the knights into the field (unarmored under helm and shield) sole Victor of each red mêlée ... how the fear of Death dismays me! that strange, despotic Beast tears from its mother’s breast the babe, full of benignity ... how the fear of Death dismays me! He takes the champion of the hour, the captain of the highest tower, the beautiful damsel in full flower ... how the fear of Death dismays me! He spares no lord for his elegance, nor clerk for his intelligence; His dreadful stroke no man can flee ... how the fear of Death dismays me! artist, magician, scientist, orator, debater, theologist, must all conclude, so too, as we: “how the fear of Death dismays me!” in medicine the most astute sawbones and surgeons all fall mute; they cannot save themselves, or flee ... how the fear of Death dismays me! i see the Makers among the unsaved; the greatest of Poets all go to the grave; He does not spare them their faculty ... how the fear of Death dismays me! i have seen the Monster pitilessly devour our noble Chaucer, poetry’s flower, and Lydgate and Gower (great Trinity!) ... how the fear of Death dismays me! since He has taken my brothers all, i know He will not let me live past the fall; His next victim will be—poor unfortunate me!— how the fear of Death dismays me! there is no remedy for Death; we all must prepare to relinquish breath so that after we die, we may be set free from “the fear of Death dismays me!” This is my modern English translation of "Lament for the Makaris," an elegy by the great early Scottish poet William Dunbar [c. 1460-1530]. Dunbar was a court poet in the household of King James IV of Scotland. The Makaris were "makers," or poets. The original poem is a form of danse macabre, or "dance of death," in which people of all social classes are summoned by Death. The poem has a refrain: every fourth line is the Latin phrase "timor mortis conturbat me" ("the fear of death dismays me" or "disturbs/confounds me"). The poem was probably composed around 1508 A.D., when Dunbar was advancing in age and perhaps facing the prospect of death himself (it is not clear exactly when he died). In his famous poem Dunbar mentions other poets who passed away, including Geoffrey Chaucer, John Lydgate, and John Gower. Dunbar is generally considered to have been the greatest Scottish poet before Robert Burns, and he is noted for his comedies, satires, and sometimes ribald language. Keywords/Tags: Dunbar, translation, Scottish, dialect, Scotland, lament, makaris,  makers, poets, mrbtr, danse, macabre, refrain, Latin, timor, mortis, conturbat, dirge, lamentation, eulogy, epitaph, death, dismay, sorrow, fear, terror, writing, death, evil, sympathy, sorrow Sunset by Michael R. Burch This poem is dedicated to my grandfather, George Edwin Hurt Between the prophecies of morning and twilight’s revelations of wonder, the sky is ripped asunder. The moon lurks in the clouds, waiting, as if to plunder the dusk of its lilac iridescence, and in the bright-tentacled sunset we imagine a presence full of the fury of lost innocence. What we find within strange whorls of drifting flame, brief patterns mauling winds deform and maim, we recognize at once, but cannot name.
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75
From the East Coast of Ireland to the Lowlands of Scotland, a well-trodden path, Grandma going to Whiteinch Baths, to do the family laundry, And to take my Auntie for a swim, the black and white photos look a bit grim. She mispronounces certain words. When you put your dinner in between some bread, she'd look at you, dead, and say, "If yis waanted sangwhiches, I'd have made yis sangwhiches!" And, "you're very pass-remarkable," I think it means you're quick to comment on others, my Mother's also from Glasgow, and doesn't know why Grandma speaks like that, so this isn't just me being a Sassenach, or a daft English **** 25th of January is Burns Night, serve the neeps, tatties, a glass of fizz, and of course, some Haggis. Some say offal's awful, but I just can't get enough of the stuff. A firm favourite of our clan is a creamy dessert named Cranachan. Topped with berries and a splash of whiskey, you can guarantee a thumbs up from me. The ancient family tartan is red and blue, then there's the family crest too, a knight with a shield under a tree, I think it represents gallantry. I sometimes wish I had a proper Scottish name, like Hamilton, Douglas, or McCain, don't suppose it matters, at least I can understand the patter, (that means joke or language.) A saying about saving your coins, "Mony a mickle macks a muckle," always makes me chuckle. "Does it, aye?" is a very dry reply, used to take the **** and can be easy to miss. When my Mum was younger, the family liked to roam, but when she visits Glasgow, she says it feels like home, her voice even changes when she's on the phone. Sounds English most of the day, then my Auntie calls, and she's on her way, "Haud ye weesht!" when she picks up the phone, that means be quiet, but you wouldn't have known, that isn't her normal speaking tone. Scottish family, some are distant to me, but through my parentage, it's nice to have the heritage.
0
May 7, 2020
May 7, 2020 at 3:22 PM UTC
ryan-20
Scottish Family
From the East Coast of Ireland to the Lowlands of Scotland, a well-trodden path, Grandma going to Whiteinch Baths, to do the family laundry, And to take my Auntie for a swim, the black and white photos look a bit grim. She mispronounces certain words. When you put your dinner in between some bread, she'd look at you, dead, and say, "If yis waanted sangwhiches, I'd have made yis sangwhiches!" And, "you're very pass-remarkable," I think it means you're quick to comment on others, my Mother's also from Glasgow, and doesn't know why Grandma speaks like that, so this isn't just me being a Sassenach, or a daft English **** 25th of January is Burns Night, serve the neeps, tatties, a glass of fizz, and of course, some Haggis. Some say offal's awful, but I just can't get enough of the stuff. A firm favourite of our clan is a creamy dessert named Cranachan. Topped with berries and a splash of whiskey, you can guarantee a thumbs up from me. The ancient family tartan is red and blue, then there's the family crest too, a knight with a shield under a tree, I think it represents gallantry. I sometimes wish I had a proper Scottish name, like Hamilton, Douglas, or McCain, don't suppose it matters, at least I can understand the patter, (that means joke or language.) A saying about saving your coins, "Mony a mickle macks a muckle," always makes me chuckle. "Does it, aye?" is a very dry reply, used to take the **** and can be easy to miss. When my Mum was younger, the family liked to roam, but when she visits Glasgow, she says it feels like home, her voice even changes when she's on the phone. Sounds English most of the day, then my Auntie calls, and she's on her way, "Haud ye weesht!" when she picks up the phone, that means be quiet, but you wouldn't have known, that isn't her normal speaking tone. Scottish family, some are distant to me, but through my parentage, it's nice to have the heritage.
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53
Banks o' Doon by Robert Burns modern English translation by Michael R. Burch Oh, banks and hills of lovely Doon, How can you bloom so fresh and fair; How can you chant, diminutive birds, When I'm so weary, full of care! You'll break my heart, small warblers, Flittering through the flowering thorn: Reminding me of long-lost joys, Departed―never to return! I've often wandered lovely Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine; And as the lark sang of its love, Just as fondly, I sang of mine. Then gaily-hearted I plucked a rose, So fragrant upon its thorny tree; And my false lover stole my rose, But, ah!, he left the thorn in me. “The Banks o’ Doon” is a Scots song written by Robert Burns in 1791. It is based on the story of Margaret (Peggy) Kennedy, a girl Burns knew. Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, song, Doon, banks, Scots, Scottish, Scotland, translation, modernization, update, interpretation, modern English Translations of Scottish Poems Sweet Rose of Virtue by William Dunbar [1460-1525] loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness, delightful lily of youthful wantonness, richest in bounty and in beauty clear and in every virtue that is held most dear― except only that you are merciless. Into your garden, today, I followed you; there I saw flowers of freshest hue, both white and red, delightful to see, and wholesome herbs, waving resplendently― yet everywhere, no odor but rue. I fear that March with his last arctic blast has slain my fair rose of pallid and gentle cast, whose piteous death does my heart such pain that, if I could, I would compose her roots again― so comforting her bowering leaves have been. Ballad by William Soutar translation/modernization by Michael R. Burch O, surely you have seen my love Down where the waters wind: He walks like one who fears no man And yet his eyes are kind! O, surely you have seen my love At the turning of the tide: For then he gathers in his nets Down by the waterside! Yes, lassie we have seen your love At the turning of the tide: For he was with the fisher folk Down by the waterside. The fisher folk worked at their trade No far from Walnut Grove: They gathered in their dripping nets And found your one true love! Keywords/Tags: William Soutar, Scottish, Scot, Scotsman, ballad, water, waterside, tide, nets, nets, fisher, fishers, fisher folk, fishermen, love, sea, ocean, lost, lost love, loss Lament for the Makaris (“Lament for the Makers, or Poets”) by William Dunbar (c. 1460-1530) loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch i who enjoyed good health and gladness am overwhelmed now by life’s terrible sickness and enfeebled with infirmity; the fear of Death dismays me! our presence here is mere vainglory; the false world is but transitory; the flesh is frail; the Fiend runs free; how the fear of Death dismays me! the state of man is changeable: now sound, now sick, now blithe, now dull, now manic, now devoid of glee; and the fear of Death dismays me! no state on earth stands here securely; as the wild wind waves the willow tree, so wavers this world’s vanity; and the fear of Death dismays me! Death leads the knights into the field (unarmored under helm and shield) sole Victor of each red mêlée; and the fear of Death dismays me! that strange, despotic Beast tears from its mother’s breast the babe, full of benignity; and the fear of Death dismays me! He takes the champion of the hour, the captain of the highest tower, the beautiful damsel in full flower; how the fear of Death dismays me! He spares no lord for his elegance, nor clerk for his intelligence; His dreadful stroke no man can flee; and the fear of Death dismays me! artist, magician, scientist, orator, debater, theologist, all must conclude, so too, as we: “the fear of Death dismays me!” in medicine the most astute sawbones and surgeons all fall mute; they cannot save themselves, or flee, and the fear of Death dismays me! i see the Makers among the unsaved; the greatest of Poets all go to the grave; He does not spare them their faculty, and the fear of Death dismays me! i have seen Him pitilessly devour our noble Chaucer, poetry’s flower, and Lydgate and Gower (great Trinity!); how the fear of Death dismays me! since He has taken my brothers all, i know He will not let me live past the fall; His next victim will be —poor unfortunate me!— and how the fear of Death dismays me! there is no remedy for Death; we must all prepare to relinquish breath, so that after we die, we may no more plead: “the fear of Death dismays me!” To a Mouse by Robert Burns modern English translation by Michael R. Burch Sleek, tiny, timorous, cowering beast, why's such panic in your breast? Why dash away, so quick, so rash, in a frenzied flash when I would be loath to pursue you with a murderous plowstaff! I'm truly sorry Man's dominion has broken Nature's social union, and justifies that bad opinion which makes you startle, when I'm your poor, earth-born companion and fellow mortal! I have no doubt you sometimes thieve; What of it, friend? You too must live! A random corn-ear in a shock's a small behest; it- 'll give me a blessing to know such a loss; I'll never miss it! Your tiny house lies in a ruin, its fragile walls wind-rent and strewn! Now nothing's left to construct you a new one of mosses green since bleak December's winds, ensuing, blow fast and keen! You saw your fields laid bare and waste with weary winter closing fast, and cozy here, beneath the blast, you thought to dwell, till crash! the cruel iron ploughshare passed straight through your cell! That flimsy heap of leaves and stubble had cost you many a weary nibble! Now you're turned out, for all your trouble, less house and hold, to endure the winter's icy dribble and hoarfrosts cold! But mouse-friend, you are not alone in proving foresight may be vain: the best-laid schemes of Mice and Men go oft awry, and leave us only grief and pain, for promised joy! Still, friend, you're blessed compared with me! Only present dangers make you flee: But, ouch!, behind me I can see grim prospects drear! While forward-looking seers, we humans guess and fear! To a Louse by Robert Burns translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Hey! Where're you going, you crawling hair-fly? Your impudence protects you, barely; I can only say that you swagger rarely Over gauze and lace. Though faith! I fear you dine but sparely In such a place. You ugly, creeping, blasted wonder, Detested, shunned by both saint and sinner, How dare you set your feet upon her— So fine a lady! Go somewhere else to seek your dinner On some poor body. Off! around some beggar's temple shamble: There you may creep, and sprawl, and scramble, With other kindred, jumping cattle, In shoals and nations; Where horn nor bone never dare unsettle Your thick plantations. Now hold you there! You're out of sight, Below the folderols, snug and tight; No, faith just yet! You'll not be right, Till you've got on it: The very topmost, towering height Of miss's bonnet. My word! right bold you root, contrary, As plump and gray as any gooseberry. Oh, for some rank, mercurial resin, Or dread red poison; I'd give you such a hearty dose, flea, It'd dress your noggin! I wouldn't be surprised to spy You on some housewife's flannel tie: Or maybe on some ragged boy's Pale undervest; But Miss's finest bonnet! Fie! How dare you jest? Oh Jenny, do not toss your head, And lash your lovely braids abroad! You hardly know what cursed speed The creature's making! Those winks and finger-ends, I dread, Are notice-taking! O would some Power with vision teach us To see ourselves as others see us! It would from many a blunder free us, And foolish notions: What airs in dress and carriage would leave us, And even devotion! A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns modern English translation by Michael R. Burch Oh, my love is like a red, red rose that's newly sprung in June and my love is like the melody that's sweetly played in tune. And you're so fair, my lovely lass, and so deep in love am I, that I will love you still, my dear, till all the seas run dry. Till all the seas run dry, my dear, and the rocks melt with the sun! And I will love you still, my dear, while the sands of life shall run. And fare you well, my only love! And fare you well, awhile! And I will come again, my love, though it were ten thousand miles! Comin Thro the Rye by Robert Burns modern English translation by Michael R. Burch Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body, Jenny's seldom dry; She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Should a body meet a body Comin' through the rye, Should a body kiss a body, Need anybody cry? Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Should a body meet a body Comin' through the glen, Should a body kiss a body, Need all the world know, then? Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Auld Lange Syne by Robert Burns modern English translation by Michael R. Burch Should old acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should old acquaintance be forgot, And days for which we pine? For times we shared, my darling, Days passed, once yours and mine, We’ll raise a cup of kindness yet, To those fond-remembered times!
0
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 2:50 AM UTC
michael-r-burch
Robert Burns "Banks o' Doon" translation
Banks o' Doon by Robert Burns modern English translation by Michael R. Burch Oh, banks and hills of lovely Doon, How can you bloom so fresh and fair; How can you chant, diminutive birds, When I'm so weary, full of care! You'll break my heart, small warblers, Flittering through the flowering thorn: Reminding me of long-lost joys, Departed―never to return! I've often wandered lovely Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine; And as the lark sang of its love, Just as fondly, I sang of mine. Then gaily-hearted I plucked a rose, So fragrant upon its thorny tree; And my false lover stole my rose, But, ah!, he left the thorn in me. “The Banks o’ Doon” is a Scots song written by Robert Burns in 1791. It is based on the story of Margaret (Peggy) Kennedy, a girl Burns knew. Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, song, Doon, banks, Scots, Scottish, Scotland, translation, modernization, update, interpretation, modern English Translations of Scottish Poems Sweet Rose of Virtue by William Dunbar [1460-1525] loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness, delightful lily of youthful wantonness, richest in bounty and in beauty clear and in every virtue that is held most dear― except only that you are merciless. Into your garden, today, I followed you; there I saw flowers of freshest hue, both white and red, delightful to see, and wholesome herbs, waving resplendently― yet everywhere, no odor but rue. I fear that March with his last arctic blast has slain my fair rose of pallid and gentle cast, whose piteous death does my heart such pain that, if I could, I would compose her roots again― so comforting her bowering leaves have been. Ballad by William Soutar translation/modernization by Michael R. Burch O, surely you have seen my love Down where the waters wind: He walks like one who fears no man And yet his eyes are kind! O, surely you have seen my love At the turning of the tide: For then he gathers in his nets Down by the waterside! Yes, lassie we have seen your love At the turning of the tide: For he was with the fisher folk Down by the waterside. The fisher folk worked at their trade No far from Walnut Grove: They gathered in their dripping nets And found your one true love! Keywords/Tags: William Soutar, Scottish, Scot, Scotsman, ballad, water, waterside, tide, nets, nets, fisher, fishers, fisher folk, fishermen, love, sea, ocean, lost, lost love, loss Lament for the Makaris (“Lament for the Makers, or Poets”) by William Dunbar (c. 1460-1530) loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch i who enjoyed good health and gladness am overwhelmed now by life’s terrible sickness and enfeebled with infirmity; the fear of Death dismays me! our presence here is mere vainglory; the false world is but transitory; the flesh is frail; the Fiend runs free; how the fear of Death dismays me! the state of man is changeable: now sound, now sick, now blithe, now dull, now manic, now devoid of glee; and the fear of Death dismays me! no state on earth stands here securely; as the wild wind waves the willow tree, so wavers this world’s vanity; and the fear of Death dismays me! Death leads the knights into the field (unarmored under helm and shield) sole Victor of each red mêlée; and the fear of Death dismays me! that strange, despotic Beast tears from its mother’s breast the babe, full of benignity; and the fear of Death dismays me! He takes the champion of the hour, the captain of the highest tower, the beautiful damsel in full flower; how the fear of Death dismays me! He spares no lord for his elegance, nor clerk for his intelligence; His dreadful stroke no man can flee; and the fear of Death dismays me! artist, magician, scientist, orator, debater, theologist, all must conclude, so too, as we: “the fear of Death dismays me!” in medicine the most astute sawbones and surgeons all fall mute; they cannot save themselves, or flee, and the fear of Death dismays me! i see the Makers among the unsaved; the greatest of Poets all go to the grave; He does not spare them their faculty, and the fear of Death dismays me! i have seen Him pitilessly devour our noble Chaucer, poetry’s flower, and Lydgate and Gower (great Trinity!); how the fear of Death dismays me! since He has taken my brothers all, i know He will not let me live past the fall; His next victim will be —poor unfortunate me!— and how the fear of Death dismays me! there is no remedy for Death; we must all prepare to relinquish breath, so that after we die, we may no more plead: “the fear of Death dismays me!” To a Mouse by Robert Burns modern English translation by Michael R. Burch Sleek, tiny, timorous, cowering beast, why's such panic in your breast? Why dash away, so quick, so rash, in a frenzied flash when I would be loath to pursue you with a murderous plowstaff! I'm truly sorry Man's dominion has broken Nature's social union, and justifies that bad opinion which makes you startle, when I'm your poor, earth-born companion and fellow mortal! I have no doubt you sometimes thieve; What of it, friend? You too must live! A random corn-ear in a shock's a small behest; it- 'll give me a blessing to know such a loss; I'll never miss it! Your tiny house lies in a ruin, its fragile walls wind-rent and strewn! Now nothing's left to construct you a new one of mosses green since bleak December's winds, ensuing, blow fast and keen! You saw your fields laid bare and waste with weary winter closing fast, and cozy here, beneath the blast, you thought to dwell, till crash! the cruel iron ploughshare passed straight through your cell! That flimsy heap of leaves and stubble had cost you many a weary nibble! Now you're turned out, for all your trouble, less house and hold, to endure the winter's icy dribble and hoarfrosts cold! But mouse-friend, you are not alone in proving foresight may be vain: the best-laid schemes of Mice and Men go oft awry, and leave us only grief and pain, for promised joy! Still, friend, you're blessed compared with me! Only present dangers make you flee: But, ouch!, behind me I can see grim prospects drear! While forward-looking seers, we humans guess and fear! To a Louse by Robert Burns translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Hey! Where're you going, you crawling hair-fly? Your impudence protects you, barely; I can only say that you swagger rarely Over gauze and lace. Though faith! I fear you dine but sparely In such a place. You ugly, creeping, blasted wonder, Detested, shunned by both saint and sinner, How dare you set your feet upon her— So fine a lady! Go somewhere else to seek your dinner On some poor body. Off! around some beggar's temple shamble: There you may creep, and sprawl, and scramble, With other kindred, jumping cattle, In shoals and nations; Where horn nor bone never dare unsettle Your thick plantations. Now hold you there! You're out of sight, Below the folderols, snug and tight; No, faith just yet! You'll not be right, Till you've got on it: The very topmost, towering height Of miss's bonnet. My word! right bold you root, contrary, As plump and gray as any gooseberry. Oh, for some rank, mercurial resin, Or dread red poison; I'd give you such a hearty dose, flea, It'd dress your noggin! I wouldn't be surprised to spy You on some housewife's flannel tie: Or maybe on some ragged boy's Pale undervest; But Miss's finest bonnet! Fie! How dare you jest? Oh Jenny, do not toss your head, And lash your lovely braids abroad! You hardly know what cursed speed The creature's making! Those winks and finger-ends, I dread, Are notice-taking! O would some Power with vision teach us To see ourselves as others see us! It would from many a blunder free us, And foolish notions: What airs in dress and carriage would leave us, And even devotion! A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns modern English translation by Michael R. Burch Oh, my love is like a red, red rose that's newly sprung in June and my love is like the melody that's sweetly played in tune. And you're so fair, my lovely lass, and so deep in love am I, that I will love you still, my dear, till all the seas run dry. Till all the seas run dry, my dear, and the rocks melt with the sun! And I will love you still, my dear, while the sands of life shall run. And fare you well, my only love! And fare you well, awhile! And I will come again, my love, though it were ten thousand miles! Comin Thro the Rye by Robert Burns modern English translation by Michael R. Burch Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body, Jenny's seldom dry; She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Should a body meet a body Comin' through the rye, Should a body kiss a body, Need anybody cry? Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Should a body meet a body Comin' through the glen, Should a body kiss a body, Need all the world know, then? Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye. She's draggin' all her petticoats Comin' through the rye. Auld Lange Syne by Robert Burns modern English translation by Michael R. Burch Should old acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should old acquaintance be forgot, And days for which we pine? For times we shared, my darling, Days passed, once yours and mine, We’ll raise a cup of kindness yet, To those fond-remembered times!
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277
Midsummer-Eve: the Flight of the Faeries by Michael R. Burch What happened to the mysterious Tuatha De Danann, to the Ban Shee (from which we get the term “banshee”) and, eventually, to the druids? One might assume that with the passing of Merlyn, Morgause and their ilk, the time of myths and magic ended. This poem is an epitaph of sorts. In the ruins of the dreams and the schemes of men; when the moon begets the tide and the wide sea sighs; when a star appears in heaven and the raven cries; we will dance and we will revel in the devil’s fen . . . if nevermore again. Keywords/Tags: Druids, Banshee, Picts, Scots, Scottish, fairies, glade, raven, gull, King Arthur, Arthurian, Morgause, Merlin, round table, knights, England, stone, Excalibur, chivalry, Camelot, Uther Pendragon, Colgrim, Saxon
0
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 10:09 PM UTC
michael-r-burch
Midsummer-Eve: the Flight of the Faeries
Midsummer-Eve: the Flight of the Faeries by Michael R. Burch What happened to the mysterious Tuatha De Danann, to the Ban Shee (from which we get the term “banshee”) and, eventually, to the druids? One might assume that with the passing of Merlyn, Morgause and their ilk, the time of myths and magic ended. This poem is an epitaph of sorts. In the ruins of the dreams and the schemes of men; when the moon begets the tide and the wide sea sighs; when a star appears in heaven and the raven cries; we will dance and we will revel in the devil’s fen . . . if nevermore again. Keywords/Tags: Druids, Banshee, Picts, Scots, Scottish, fairies, glade, raven, gull, King Arthur, Arthurian, Morgause, Merlin, round table, knights, England, stone, Excalibur, chivalry, Camelot, Uther Pendragon, Colgrim, Saxon
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21
The Pictish Faeries by Michael R. Burch Smaller and darker than their closest kin, the faeries learned only too well never to dwell close to the villages of larger men. Only to dance in the starlight when the moon was full and men were afraid. Only to worship in the farthest glade, ever heeding the raven and the gull. The invincible Roman legions were never able to subdue the Scottish Picts, and eventually built Hadrian’s Wall to protect themselves! Did the Picts give rise to our myths of fairies, elves and leprechauns? Keywords/Tags: Picts, Scots, Scottish, fairies, glade, raven, gull, King Arthur, Arthurian, Morgause, Merlin, round table, knights, England, stone, Excalibur, chivalry, Camelot, Saxon
0
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 9:59 PM UTC
michael-r-burch
The Pictish Faeries
The Pictish Faeries by Michael R. Burch Smaller and darker than their closest kin, the faeries learned only too well never to dwell close to the villages of larger men. Only to dance in the starlight when the moon was full and men were afraid. Only to worship in the farthest glade, ever heeding the raven and the gull. The invincible Roman legions were never able to subdue the Scottish Picts, and eventually built Hadrian’s Wall to protect themselves! Did the Picts give rise to our myths of fairies, elves and leprechauns? Keywords/Tags: Picts, Scots, Scottish, fairies, glade, raven, gull, King Arthur, Arthurian, Morgause, Merlin, round table, knights, England, stone, Excalibur, chivalry, Camelot, Saxon
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13
Death's flowing scroll Aweing as you misstep,falling In a loop which,once surpassed, Is encompassed with laughter. Glaring down,screaming. You both scream in unison,so bitter It causes the trees in the glen To bend and whimper— Flickering back in time for a moment: Snakebones traced from inside the walls Slithering malady for countless centuries; Shedding it's calloused flakes from time to time... What is that which the starshine overhead emulates? Is it whiteblood or mere rain? lo,mere dust Thrown throughout the black sky. Death guides you to the brim of the cliff. He is uniformed in your old clothes,brandishing eery whispers   By the flick of his tongue. 'Scream now And you will scream for an eternity.'
0
Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 2:10 AM UTC
LilRimbaud99
Ode to Lyn Ward and George Macbeth
Death's flowing scroll Aweing as you misstep,falling In a loop which,once surpassed, Is encompassed with laughter. Glaring down,screaming. You both scream in unison,so bitter It causes the trees in the glen To bend and whimper— Flickering back in time for a moment: Snakebones traced from inside the walls Slithering malady for countless centuries; Shedding it's calloused flakes from time to time... What is that which the starshine overhead emulates? Is it whiteblood or mere rain? lo,mere dust Thrown throughout the black sky. Death guides you to the brim of the cliff. He is uniformed in your old clothes,brandishing eery whispers   By the flick of his tongue. 'Scream now And you will scream for an eternity.'
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19
PRELUDE - THE SEE THROUGH HOUSE a child sings from an open window a sweet song serenades an angry sky escorting the sun home soft and mellow so many years have now drifted by visiting my old home here on Vatersay Western Isles have their own genetic blends I made the wee trip over from Castlebay all that was left to see - two gable ends! As my eye resists a lonely tear I walk alone for a while on the sand memories hark back to yesteryear my Parents couldn't tame an untamed land unrelenting hardships too much to take the summer rain and then the winter snow remnants of a failed dream in my wake endless crashing tides screamed we had to go but now I've lost myself in time's assuage smoke billows forth from a happy fire forgetting the gales and their howling rage just the birds and lambs of nature's choir but then the Cuckoo sang a confused song Oyster Catchers didn't know which way to fly no more childrens laughter all day long Father leans on his staff and starts to cry I visit my childhood home this one last time bookending my days, a kind of crescendo a strange thing I know but surely not a crime for an Old Lady to sing from an open window. PART - THE FIRST New Scotland, old Scotland it was all the same the clearances were a distant memory and the two thousand mile journey that took weeks. They settled on Nova Scotia's East coast time and circumstances made them one flesh as they embarked on love's difficult journey they were blessed with a sweet child, Ishbael they both loved her tho no longer each other at night Ishbael would sing out the open window she would sing to the moon, she would sing to the stars she imagined that she was a ballet dancer and dreamed of being such when she grew up Mother eeked out a living from the tired land Father spent most of his time on the fractious sea She stood motionless at the front door each night He checked the lobster creels under a salty spray the spode China would be laid out on the table strategically placed on the driftwood surface cups stained brown with tea, coffee and nicotine and on the outside with smudges of lipstick it was the most treasured family heirloom it was somehow smuggled across in the boat it was passed on to them as a wedding gift it was the only item of value they ever had night after night Mother watches the sea in the distant field, Sheep murmur like Bees the bog cotton waves like a myriad hankies as sunlight dissolves under cumulous cloud, his bent over figure would surely soon appear whistling a sea shanty walking up the track but like a novel, his script came to an end the storm weathered body was never found outside on the lonely pebbled shore a Curlew sang the net curtains rose and fell to it's bleak strains wind rattled the windows like the beating of fence posts they drank hot milk from Spode china for the final time their family had creaked under the stresses and strains that night a tall poplar tree crashed through the roof storms wrecked their home like they wrecked their marriage a perfect marriage of howling wind and frigid air a lifetime of memories carried toward the sea yet that old enemy was soon to be their friend like a crush that would simply not go away. Veiled by wrinkles Mother responds to the calling. Larks cavort up and down in their unyielding plot while they are bound for a far and distant land the land was in their blood the blood was in their kin the Isle of Vatersay, they were going home. PART - THE SECOND Old Scotland, new Scotland it was all the same but she could not ignore the similarities she looked across the ocean, it was all the same two thousand miles of Atlantic anger wind driven waves like a Tiger on a lead but the tide died, the sea had peace like a child's hair this reminded her of her kind Step Father he would lean on his staff and cry when things went wrong a storm took this house too, only they were not in it! They settled across the water in Castlebay. Time was unveiled as she relived her childhood, withered fence posts and rusty wire that kept the joy in brushing aside the nettles the hearth warmed her heart window fames were as firm as ber Father's hand shake she carefully scraped away the moss of time, darkening seas awakened to her silvery voice. She scurried along the beach with a youthful gait reminiscent of her ballet dancing days then the tide of her heart rose like a mountain within down in the marram grass, she stared in sheer disbelief her body all a quiver she picked up the fragments with cupped hands tears were mingled with Spode china she raised her eyes heavenward and screamed... "nach eil sin italicired" which when translated means 'how wonderful is that!' tears rolled uncontrolably down her face she stood still shaking the fragments in her hands it made a lovely tinkling sound like cow bells, two thousand miles of Atlantic anger had softened the edges and smoothed over her memories. She looked fervently at the long deserted croft the wind erased her footprints in the sands of time and then the sun went down. EPILOGUE - THE END when your poems fail to rhyme when your watch runs out of time when you feel your fate was sealed we were on the same level playing field when clouds slowly start to fill your sky when the ocean gives it's final cry life's pathways they did wind and wend we were all equal in tbe end we all had good times and hope'd they'd last but time went on rolling on by far too fast that lady in the window she's still singing not about 'the end' but a new beginning.
0
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
mark-motherland
Beachcombing
PRELUDE - THE SEE THROUGH HOUSE a child sings from an open window a sweet song serenades an angry sky escorting the sun home soft and mellow so many years have now drifted by visiting my old home here on Vatersay Western Isles have their own genetic blends I made the wee trip over from Castlebay all that was left to see - two gable ends! As my eye resists a lonely tear I walk alone for a while on the sand memories hark back to yesteryear my Parents couldn't tame an untamed land unrelenting hardships too much to take the summer rain and then the winter snow remnants of a failed dream in my wake endless crashing tides screamed we had to go but now I've lost myself in time's assuage smoke billows forth from a happy fire forgetting the gales and their howling rage just the birds and lambs of nature's choir but then the Cuckoo sang a confused song Oyster Catchers didn't know which way to fly no more childrens laughter all day long Father leans on his staff and starts to cry I visit my childhood home this one last time bookending my days, a kind of crescendo a strange thing I know but surely not a crime for an Old Lady to sing from an open window. PART - THE FIRST New Scotland, old Scotland it was all the same the clearances were a distant memory and the two thousand mile journey that took weeks. They settled on Nova Scotia's East coast time and circumstances made them one flesh as they embarked on love's difficult journey they were blessed with a sweet child, Ishbael they both loved her tho no longer each other at night Ishbael would sing out the open window she would sing to the moon, she would sing to the stars she imagined that she was a ballet dancer and dreamed of being such when she grew up Mother eeked out a living from the tired land Father spent most of his time on the fractious sea She stood motionless at the front door each night He checked the lobster creels under a salty spray the spode China would be laid out on the table strategically placed on the driftwood surface cups stained brown with tea, coffee and nicotine and on the outside with smudges of lipstick it was the most treasured family heirloom it was somehow smuggled across in the boat it was passed on to them as a wedding gift it was the only item of value they ever had night after night Mother watches the sea in the distant field, Sheep murmur like Bees the bog cotton waves like a myriad hankies as sunlight dissolves under cumulous cloud, his bent over figure would surely soon appear whistling a sea shanty walking up the track but like a novel, his script came to an end the storm weathered body was never found outside on the lonely pebbled shore a Curlew sang the net curtains rose and fell to it's bleak strains wind rattled the windows like the beating of fence posts they drank hot milk from Spode china for the final time their family had creaked under the stresses and strains that night a tall poplar tree crashed through the roof storms wrecked their home like they wrecked their marriage a perfect marriage of howling wind and frigid air a lifetime of memories carried toward the sea yet that old enemy was soon to be their friend like a crush that would simply not go away. Veiled by wrinkles Mother responds to the calling. Larks cavort up and down in their unyielding plot while they are bound for a far and distant land the land was in their blood the blood was in their kin the Isle of Vatersay, they were going home. PART - THE SECOND Old Scotland, new Scotland it was all the same but she could not ignore the similarities she looked across the ocean, it was all the same two thousand miles of Atlantic anger wind driven waves like a Tiger on a lead but the tide died, the sea had peace like a child's hair this reminded her of her kind Step Father he would lean on his staff and cry when things went wrong a storm took this house too, only they were not in it! They settled across the water in Castlebay. Time was unveiled as she relived her childhood, withered fence posts and rusty wire that kept the joy in brushing aside the nettles the hearth warmed her heart window fames were as firm as ber Father's hand shake she carefully scraped away the moss of time, darkening seas awakened to her silvery voice. She scurried along the beach with a youthful gait reminiscent of her ballet dancing days then the tide of her heart rose like a mountain within down in the marram grass, she stared in sheer disbelief her body all a quiver she picked up the fragments with cupped hands tears were mingled with Spode china she raised her eyes heavenward and screamed... "nach eil sin italicired" which when translated means 'how wonderful is that!' tears rolled uncontrolably down her face she stood still shaking the fragments in her hands it made a lovely tinkling sound like cow bells, two thousand miles of Atlantic anger had softened the edges and smoothed over her memories. She looked fervently at the long deserted croft the wind erased her footprints in the sands of time and then the sun went down. EPILOGUE - THE END when your poems fail to rhyme when your watch runs out of time when you feel your fate was sealed we were on the same level playing field when clouds slowly start to fill your sky when the ocean gives it's final cry life's pathways they did wind and wend we were all equal in tbe end we all had good times and hope'd they'd last but time went on rolling on by far too fast that lady in the window she's still singing not about 'the end' but a new beginning.
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125
The *** Gardeners there were twelve in all. Hurrah! Hurrah! everyone a Hero and answered the call. Hurrah! Celagh! they were going out to war to fight the *** soon be back as Heroes when the work is done so get the Cheer Leaders ready... the *** Gardeners are coming home poison gas threatened from afar. Hurrah! Hurrah! Soon be back as Heroes and first at the bar. Hurrah! Celagh! they climbed over the top of the fields of fire and complex networks of barbed wire so get the fireworks ready the *** Gardeners are coming home deadlocked enemies on the Western line. Hurrah! Hurrah! their bodies were earth their hands were slime. Hurrah! Celagh! they didn't have time to take a breath out of duty to the King they laughed at death so get the flagpoles ready the *** Gardeners are coming home specialist bombers of an infantry platoon. Hurrah! Hurrah! our Heroes longed to be home so soon. Hurrah! Celagh! overhead shellfire scared them out their wits dropped in their trench and blew them all to bits so get the coffins ready... the *** Gardeners are coming home.
0
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 12:41 PM UTC
mark-motherland
The *** Gardeners
The *** Gardeners there were twelve in all. Hurrah! Hurrah! everyone a Hero and answered the call. Hurrah! Celagh! they were going out to war to fight the *** soon be back as Heroes when the work is done so get the Cheer Leaders ready... the *** Gardeners are coming home poison gas threatened from afar. Hurrah! Hurrah! Soon be back as Heroes and first at the bar. Hurrah! Celagh! they climbed over the top of the fields of fire and complex networks of barbed wire so get the fireworks ready the *** Gardeners are coming home deadlocked enemies on the Western line. Hurrah! Hurrah! their bodies were earth their hands were slime. Hurrah! Celagh! they didn't have time to take a breath out of duty to the King they laughed at death so get the flagpoles ready the *** Gardeners are coming home specialist bombers of an infantry platoon. Hurrah! Hurrah! our Heroes longed to be home so soon. Hurrah! Celagh! overhead shellfire scared them out their wits dropped in their trench and blew them all to bits so get the coffins ready... the *** Gardeners are coming home.
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24
She's nae ready yit Mrs Scot said when I called for Hannah at the flat. Will she be long? I asked. Ah dinnae kinn she said waltzing away up the passage leaving me on the doorstep gazing at her disappearing **** I looked back into the Square. Boys were riding their bikes round the pram sheds and girls were playing hop-scotch in chalked out boxes or doing handstands against the wall. Thought I heard your voice Hannah said I was in the bog. Mum's not in a happy mood as Dad forgot her birthday present yesterday and today. I nodded and looked at her standing there. We're going out she called to her mother. A grunt came back along the passage way. We went out and she closed the door. Is she ever happy your mother? I said. Ah dinnae kinn Hannah said and smiled. We went to the park and rode the swings and slide. Then we lay on the grass and she did mimics of her mother and we laughed a lot. Then we sat in the shade of the trees being hot.
0
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 1:02 PM UTC
TerryCollett
Being Hot 1960
She's nae ready yit Mrs Scot said when I called for Hannah at the flat. Will she be long? I asked. Ah dinnae kinn she said waltzing away up the passage leaving me on the doorstep gazing at her disappearing **** I looked back into the Square. Boys were riding their bikes round the pram sheds and girls were playing hop-scotch in chalked out boxes or doing handstands against the wall. Thought I heard your voice Hannah said I was in the bog. Mum's not in a happy mood as Dad forgot her birthday present yesterday and today. I nodded and looked at her standing there. We're going out she called to her mother. A grunt came back along the passage way. We went out and she closed the door. Is she ever happy your mother? I said. Ah dinnae kinn Hannah said and smiled. We went to the park and rode the swings and slide. Then we lay on the grass and she did mimics of her mother and we laughed a lot. Then we sat in the shade of the trees being hot.
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56
Your broad forehead glistening-- kissed with salt from the sweat of the sea you've never seen. The clay is still under your nails from molding the beaker beside you. Meadowsweet on your lips you lay down to die with the softness illness brings. Tonderghie copper hair falls over your knees, body curled as a new babe's. Carry with you our songs to the afterlife from this cold forest to clearest skies.
0
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
elaenor-aisling
Ava
Your broad forehead glistening-- kissed with salt from the sweat of the sea you've never seen. The clay is still under your nails from molding the beaker beside you. Meadowsweet on your lips you lay down to die with the softness illness brings. Tonderghie copper hair falls over your knees, body curled as a new babe's. Carry with you our songs to the afterlife from this cold forest to clearest skies.
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14
I live in the north with the hoodies and the loons, Where the wild gorse grows and prickles the brooms, Where fields and pastures roll into mounds, Which fold into mountains which tickle the clouds. I live in the north, more water than rock, Grey, green and blue like glas on the loch, Reflecting the perfect mirror of the moon, Are the world's oldest rocks, from which it was hewn. I live in the north where cold winds blow, Bringing hailstones and hurricanes, sunshine and snow, To pristine white sand beaches where white waves come foaming, To the straths and the glens serene in the gloaming. I live in the north, the land of the Scots, Named after the Irish, the natives forgot, A land of Vikings and Picts, through war and through fire, They bested the worst of the Roman empire. I live in the north where the music runs deep, It can make you laugh till you cry or a grown man weep, A reel to make you believe any fable, A blast of the pipes'll have you dance on the table. I live in the north, still ruled by a king, Monarch of the glen, lord of the ling, Whose forests lack trees and whose lands are bare, Save for the lonely, hunted hare. I live in the north where magic is real, And you can never be sure if it's selkie or seal, Where the goddess Aurora paints the night sky green, And dances with more stars than you've ever seen.
0
Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 4:06 PM UTC
jrs
I live in the north (18-4-16)
I live in the north with the hoodies and the loons, Where the wild gorse grows and prickles the brooms, Where fields and pastures roll into mounds, Which fold into mountains which tickle the clouds. I live in the north, more water than rock, Grey, green and blue like glas on the loch, Reflecting the perfect mirror of the moon, Are the world's oldest rocks, from which it was hewn. I live in the north where cold winds blow, Bringing hailstones and hurricanes, sunshine and snow, To pristine white sand beaches where white waves come foaming, To the straths and the glens serene in the gloaming. I live in the north, the land of the Scots, Named after the Irish, the natives forgot, A land of Vikings and Picts, through war and through fire, They bested the worst of the Roman empire. I live in the north where the music runs deep, It can make you laugh till you cry or a grown man weep, A reel to make you believe any fable, A blast of the pipes'll have you dance on the table. I live in the north, still ruled by a king, Monarch of the glen, lord of the ling, Whose forests lack trees and whose lands are bare, Save for the lonely, hunted hare. I live in the north where magic is real, And you can never be sure if it's selkie or seal, Where the goddess Aurora paints the night sky green, And dances with more stars than you've ever seen.
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28
Some people live their lives in a slumber, Eyes fixated on the shows That show People living fake lives, Killing zombies, Being criminals, Scottish time travelers For Christ's sake. Some eyes look at reality, Real people Being fake, Acting like they wish they were, But they aren't. Some people Don't look at anything, They have lost their ability To be amazed By the tricks of a magician, Tired of being mesmerized.
0
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 12:31 AM UTC
Guden
Scottish time travelers
Some people live their lives in a slumber, Eyes fixated on the shows That show People living fake lives, Killing zombies, Being criminals, Scottish time travelers For Christ's sake. Some eyes look at reality, Real people Being fake, Acting like they wish they were, But they aren't. Some people Don't look at anything, They have lost their ability To be amazed By the tricks of a magician, Tired of being mesmerized.
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19
Sit doon, Mrs Scot said. I looked around the sitting room. In th' armchair, she added pointing to an old armchair. Will Hannah be long? I said. Hoo dae Ah ken, she said, walking off into the passage, smoke from her cigarette following after her. I sat down and looked around the room. HANNAH TH' BOY'S HAUR, she bellowed from the kitchen. Won't be long, Hannah replied from the bog. I hoped Mrs Scot would not return to speak to me without an interpreter. Dornt keep heem tay lang, Mrs Scot said firmly. I rubbed my crucifix with my thumb in my pocket. The bog door unlocked and Hannah came into the sitting room: sorry about that, she said, call of nature, or as Mum says caa ay nature. She smiled; I smiled weakly. So where we going? Hannah said. There's a film we can see, I said, if you've money, or we can go swimming in the swimming baths. I've no money, but swimming seems a good idea; I'll just get my stuff and ask Mum for a few pence. So off she went; I sat listening, fingers held in each other forming a church kind of thing. Bunsens? ye aye want bunsens, her mother said. Just a few pence for the locker, Hannah said. Puckle bon mah god, her mother said. I sat staring at the wall where a picture of man in a kilt stared back at me. The resemblance to Hannah's mother and the man was plain to see.
0
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC
TerryCollett
SPITTING IMAGE 1960.
Sit doon, Mrs Scot said. I looked around the sitting room. In th' armchair, she added pointing to an old armchair. Will Hannah be long? I said. Hoo dae Ah ken, she said, walking off into the passage, smoke from her cigarette following after her. I sat down and looked around the room. HANNAH TH' BOY'S HAUR, she bellowed from the kitchen. Won't be long, Hannah replied from the bog. I hoped Mrs Scot would not return to speak to me without an interpreter. Dornt keep heem tay lang, Mrs Scot said firmly. I rubbed my crucifix with my thumb in my pocket. The bog door unlocked and Hannah came into the sitting room: sorry about that, she said, call of nature, or as Mum says caa ay nature. She smiled; I smiled weakly. So where we going? Hannah said. There's a film we can see, I said, if you've money, or we can go swimming in the swimming baths. I've no money, but swimming seems a good idea; I'll just get my stuff and ask Mum for a few pence. So off she went; I sat listening, fingers held in each other forming a church kind of thing. Bunsens? ye aye want bunsens, her mother said. Just a few pence for the locker, Hannah said. Puckle bon mah god, her mother said. I sat staring at the wall where a picture of man in a kilt stared back at me. The resemblance to Hannah's mother and the man was plain to see.
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84
He holds it comfortably in his mouth Like a boiled sweet or a segment of orange And when he says it , the sound is natural. As if worn leather or turned wood could speak, It sounds homely like a crackling log fire But is also jarring like a metal nail being dragged across a piece of slate.
0
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 5:54 PM UTC
dan-gilbert
F Word
He holds it comfortably in his mouth Like a boiled sweet or a segment of orange And when he says it , the sound is natural. As if worn leather or turned wood could speak, It sounds homely like a crackling log fire But is also jarring like a metal nail being dragged across a piece of slate.
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7
Beneath the Golden moon, The waves shimmer, Like silver streaked with gold, The beauty lies before me, I dreamt of you stealing behind me.. Together we witnessed the serenity screened for us, Sound of the sea orchestrated a wild Symphony, Waves dancing on silver sand, The salty peanuts you fed me there.. My tongue cleaning your fingers without a speck... Content you continued to write from where you left. I continued to type this song, continuous without a period... This is just one evening of our lives... There might be many, There might be none, But, Its easy I can reproduce you through my memory, Another moonlit night and you stealing behind.. The winds might roar then, The moon might disappear without trace, We will stand and witness the waves roar, A wild dance that threatens and we step back, A hurricane may brew before our eyes, But, my heart calm resting at your side... A cold ice cream this time, rain washing your sticky fingers, You nod at me and I followed, A Spring morning, when the tides lazed and slept... You held a tulip and ran on my cheeks, I stood there closing my eyes... It's time to reproduce you back, The Scottish village idyllic before our eyes.
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May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 12:05 PM UTC
viji-suresh
A wild Symphony
Beneath the Golden moon, The waves shimmer, Like silver streaked with gold, The beauty lies before me, I dreamt of you stealing behind me.. Together we witnessed the serenity screened for us, Sound of the sea orchestrated a wild Symphony, Waves dancing on silver sand, The salty peanuts you fed me there.. My tongue cleaning your fingers without a speck... Content you continued to write from where you left. I continued to type this song, continuous without a period... This is just one evening of our lives... There might be many, There might be none, But, Its easy I can reproduce you through my memory, Another moonlit night and you stealing behind.. The winds might roar then, The moon might disappear without trace, We will stand and witness the waves roar, A wild dance that threatens and we step back, A hurricane may brew before our eyes, But, my heart calm resting at your side... A cold ice cream this time, rain washing your sticky fingers, You nod at me and I followed, A Spring morning, when the tides lazed and slept... You held a tulip and ran on my cheeks, I stood there closing my eyes... It's time to reproduce you back, The Scottish village idyllic before our eyes.
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30
Forlorn beauty-child Living in my night Crying in your dream. Sounds of sorrow Linger in the morning mist Of subdued consciousness. Troubled water falls From awakened red eyes That searched inside loneliness   Only to find more. Now... Behind my faceted face Your countenance lingers... I glance quickly within, You disappear! Your gaze lit my shadowed mind. Your presence was there waiting For me… A Sonata… A Fantasy   A Major key bright-shining Singing sunbeams to lift me. After the music... Shards of shattered dreams Scattered like felled icicles lying in the sun, melting into mulch       They dawned bright green Pipers on Scottish dew. The mourning moon is Catchlight in your eyes Bright Bird... Captivating sailors Reaching down evoking vulnerable Aspects held so long secret...
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Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
clayfeet
Scotch sonata - Piper's dream
Forlorn beauty-child Living in my night Crying in your dream. Sounds of sorrow Linger in the morning mist Of subdued consciousness. Troubled water falls From awakened red eyes That searched inside loneliness   Only to find more. Now... Behind my faceted face Your countenance lingers... I glance quickly within, You disappear! Your gaze lit my shadowed mind. Your presence was there waiting For me… A Sonata… A Fantasy   A Major key bright-shining Singing sunbeams to lift me. After the music... Shards of shattered dreams Scattered like felled icicles lying in the sun, melting into mulch       They dawned bright green Pipers on Scottish dew. The mourning moon is Catchlight in your eyes Bright Bird... Captivating sailors Reaching down evoking vulnerable Aspects held so long secret...
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