Twinty-five year
And a licht hour fae hame
Birslin up the interstern causey
Brandishin images
Clean-cut Americans
Adrift on orra quasars.
An inch alang ma pinkie
On a finger-neb o bane
Birslin up the internuclear causey
Brandishing images
Baggit-eed mimmerkins
Adrift on orra quarks.
Warlds birl in eternity
Ends tryst in infinity
Solar stour on the cosmic shelf
Galaxies in a pinkie skelf.
Gin we canna fin life in outer space
Inby is a yet mair unkent place.
0
Roon O
Babygro
Mama
Wah Wah
Heid like a neep
Waarm and wee
Pink bud asleep
Oan wur tree.
25
Here Ah strunt, the warld’s room’s mine
Richt on sang, gallus, free!
Ah’ve aw the plans an aw the time
A dizzen cities beckon me
A score o different weys tae wend
A hunnert fowk tae mak ma freen.
A thoosand new-farrant thochts tae send!
The heichs are blue, the glens are green.
50
Ah ken bi noo Ah’m likely through
The middle merk that ligs atween
Though sun’s still high, twaloors is by
The morra rings in douce yestreen
An yet, as Ah gang sloomin doon
Fae salad days tae glen o greetin
Ilk morn wi rosy hope is croonit
The daw yet sends the grey cluds fleetin.
75
And noo, hauf-hoodit in the haar o Time
The Baddies come ridin in ower the faur lea.
They’re aye in the distance, a blearie wee line
Kickin up sic a stour, they hide fae the ee.
Ah noo an again gliff them; they’re ilka ane there
Arthritis, Angina, the aul Werr and Terr.
Their daithly braith jeels me, Ah tell masel, Naw,
A wee tummy twang, it’s naethin ava,
Jist a wee sniffle, whaur’s the cough cure?
Need a new telly, soond’s affa puir
Nae faur intae gloamin, nae muckle tae fear,
But naethin’s mair siccar and naethin’s mair clear
Amang thae pale riders a black-hattit ane
Has whittled lang syne ma name on his gun.
100
Was coorie in
Canna lang last
Nae muckle future
Bit …..whit a graun past!
Mary McCabe
When Ah wis wee Glesca wis black
Canyons windin
Tramcaurs grindin
Chalk oan the was
Clickety cobblestanes
Rickety gallus weans cheeky
Noo Ah’m big, Glesca’s rid
Rubbit raw
Scrubbit braw
Brassy blonde hooses
Rid Squerr n jazz
Razzamataz.
Up oan the skyline
High-rise an pylons
Wind birlin stour dust
Roon the fowk faur ablow
Wide yawnin space
Wi nivver a trace
O the tramcaurs and canyons
We knew lang ago
Shanghai
Adhar ceimigeach
Fichead millean ann an Shanghai
Gealach odhar.
Chemical Sky
Over Shanghai’s twenty million
Tea-rose moon rising
———————————————–
Great Wall
Cheud ceum air seann cabhsair
Fillte thar nan cnoc cian gorm
Mùr Mòr.
First step on ancient causey
Folded over the far green hills
Great Wall.
Birch
Doir’- beithe
Sgàilean plaosgach air uaine
Banais air chall ann an giùlan
Birch grove
Glimmering veils in forest green
Lost brides at a funeral
Willow
Seileach a’ tumadh
Sreang anns an abhainn
Cùirtear sraing aig losgannan
Willow wallows in the shallows
Dipping tendrils
Lace curtain for frogs
Hawthorn
Uath breac
Cùbhreachd a’pasgadh droighnichean
An-t-og-mhios air a bhreith/a togalaich!
Speckled hawthorn pink and white
Perfumed blanket swaddles the thorns
June moon
Oak
Sgiathalaich duir
Speur a reir Van Gogh
Leòban orachan de’n-t-samhradh
Fluttering oak
Patches of Van Gogh sky
Golden scraps of summer
Hazel
Clòimh-chat air a’choll
Breaghad anns an t-Earrach
Babagan an òir
Hazel dressed in finery
Ruffling on the Spring breeze
Golden bobbles
Fir
Silver fir
Stairway through the woodland canopy
Squirrel skywalker
Ailm staidhreach
Briseadh am mullach-coille
Feòrag anns an adhar gorm
The following four haikus have not been published but are part of the same set
Ivy
Taigh sean a’caogaidh troimh gort
Lòsain dorcha
Feusag is speuclairean.)
Old house keeking through the ivy
Panes gleaming darkly
Beard and glasses
Whins/Gorse
Onn air na beanntan, teine òir
Grianach a dh’fhaicinn
Cràiteach a làimhsich
Whins on the mountainside, blaze of gold
Sunny to see
Searing to hold!
Rowan
Luis ‘na fàs trasda
Dìreach as an taobh
Sgùd àrd air a fuar Beinn Mor
Rowan alone
Straight out of the bare rock
Ben More’s lofty pioneer
Yew
Iubhar dubh
Meallach le ‘n ealain àma
Freiceadan aig an dorus bàis.
Black yew
Twisted by the arts of time
Bouncer at the door of death
Mary McCabe 