Yersel an Masel
Fae the auld Erse
If ye come ava come anerly at nicht an step quaitly - dinna fleg me. Ye’ll fin the key ablow the doorstane an me bi masel - dinna fleg me.
There’s nae pot i the wey nae stuil nor can nor rope o strae - naethin ava. The dug is quait an winnae say a word. It’s nae shame tae him: ah’ve trained him weel.
Ma mither’s asleep an ma faither’s priggin wi her kissin her mou an kissin her mou. Isnae she chancy!
Hae peety on me lyin here bi masel i the feather bed.
By Lydia Robb from Last Tango with Magritte (Chapman Publishing, 2001)
Poem supplied by the Scottish Poetry Library |