LL-L "Literature" 2002.10.30 (12) [E/S/LS]

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From: Andy (Scots-Online) andy at scots-online.org
Subject: Halloween

Since halloween is upon us I thought fellow Lowlanders might enjoy Robert
Fergusson's poem (1750 - 74)

The Version below is edited using a more 'modern' orthography and has had
the grammar Scottified.
The Original version follows.

Hallae-Fair

At Hallaemas, whan nichts growes lang,
An starnies shines fou clear,
Whan fowk, the nippin cauld tae bang,
Thair winter hap-wairms weirs,
Naur Edinburgh a fair thare hauds,
A wat thare's nane that's name is,
For strappin dames an sturdy lads,
An caup an stoup, mair famous
Than it that day.

Upo the tap o ilka lum
The sun begoud tae keek,
An bad the trig made maidens come
A sichtly jo tae seek
At Hallae-fair, whaur brewsters rare
Keeps guid ale on the gantries,
An dinna scrimp ye o a skair
O kebbucks frae thair pantries,
Fou saut that day.

Here kintra John in bunnet blue,
An eik his Sunday claes on,
Rins efter Meg wi rokelay new,
An sappie kisses lays on;
She'll tauntin say, ye silly cuif!
Be o your gab mair spairin;
He'll tak the hint, an creash her luif
Wi whit will buy her fairin,
Tae chowe that day.

Here chapman billies taks thair staund,
An shaws thair bonnie wallies;
Wow, but thay lie fou gleg aff haund
Tae trick the silly fallaes:
Heh, Sirs! whit cairds an tinklers comes,
An ne'er-dae-weel horse-cowpers,
An spae-wifes fenyiein tae be dumm,
Wi aw siclike landlowpers,
Tae thrive that day.

Here Sawny cries, frae Aiberdeen;
'Come ye tae me 'at needs:
The brawest shanks that e'er war seen
A'll sell ye cheap an gweed.
A wyte thay are as protty hose
As comes fae weyr or leem:
Here tak a rug, an shaw's your pose:
Forseeth, ma ain's but teem
An licht this day.'

Ye wifes, as ye gangs throu the fair,
mak your bargains huilie!
O aw thir wylie louns bewaur,
Or fegs thay will ye spulyie.
For fernyear Meg Thamson gat,
Frae thir mischievous villains,
A scawt bit o a penny note,
That lost a score o shillins
Tae her that day.

The dinlin drums alairms oor ears,
The sergeant screichs fou lood,
'Aw gentlemen an volunteers
That wiss your kintra guid,
Come here tae me, an A shall gie
Twa guineas an a croun,
A bowl o punch, that like the sea
Will soum a lang dragoon
Wi ease this day.'

Athoot the cuissers prance an nicker,
An ower the ley-rig scud;
In tents the carles bends the bicker,
An rants an rairs like wud.
Than thare's sic yallochin an din,
Wi wifes an weans gablin,
That ane micht trowe thay war a-kin
Tae aw the tongues at Babylon,
Confuised that day.

Whan Phoebus ligs in Thetis laup,
Auld Reekie gies thaim shelter,
Whaur cadgily thay kiss the caup,
An caw't roond helter-skelter.
Jock Bell gaed furth tae play his freaks,
Great cause he haed tae rue it,
For frae a stark Lochaber aix
He gat a clamihewit
Fou sair that nicht.

'Ohon!' quo he, 'A'd raither be
Bi swuird or bagnet stickit,
Than hae ma croun or bodie wi
Sic deidlie wappins nickit.'
Wi that he gat anither straik
Mair wechty than afore,
That gart his feckless bodie ache,
An spew the reekin gore,
Fou reid that nicht.

He pechin on the causey lay,
O kicks an cuffs weel sert;
A Hieland aith the sergeant gae,
'She maun pe see oor gaird.'
Oot spak the warlike corporal,
'Pring in ta drunken groat,
For that neist day.

Guid fowks, as ye comes frae the fair,
Bide yont frae this black squad;
Thare's nae sic savages elsewhaur
Alloud tae weir cockaud.
Than the strang lions's hungry maw,
Or tusk o' Roussaen beir,
Frae thair wanruly fellin paw
Mair cause ye hae tae fear
Your daith that day.

A wee soop drink dis unco weel
Tae haud the hert abuin;
It's guid as lang's a cannie chiel
Can staund steeve in his shuin.
But gin a birkie's ower weel sert,
It gars him aften stammer
Tae ploys that brings him tae the gaird,
An eik the Cooncil-chaumer,
Wi shame that day.
______

Some Comments:
Robert Fergusson was Born and lived in Edinburgh but his parents came from
Aberdeen. He was obviously acquaint with Aberdeen speech.
Robert Burns called him "my elder brother in misfortune, by far my elder
brother in the muse".

In Verse 5 Sawny (Sandy) from Aberdeen is quoted in dialogue
gweed = guid (good)
weyr or leem = weir/wire or luim (loom)
teem = tuim (empty)
The above simply show the North-East rendering /i/ of the <ui> vowel.
'at needs = that needs, Interestingly the original (below) has 'fa need' =
wha need (who need) The Scots idiom is of course 'that needs'. In North-East
Scots this is rendered 'at. I have my suspicions that this infact may be a
different word than 'that' but serving the same function. 'The 'at used in
the North-East may be from Old Norse 'æt' whereas the 'that' used further
south is from Anglo-Saxon 'Þæt'. 'That' is of course often ellided to 'at in
connected speech. but in the North-East, in traditional varieties, ''at' is
always used in place of 'that'. Can anybody shed some light on this
suspicion?

Verse 11
The Highland soldiers:
'She maun pe see oor gaird.'  pe = be
'Pring in ta drunken groat,' Pring = Bring, ta = the showing the Gaelic
phonology of the Highlanders speaking Scots.
This kind of thing often appeared in Scots literature of the time. More
about Gaelic influenced Scots at
http://www.scots-online.org/grammar/gaelic.htm

The Original version:

Hallow-Fair

At Hallowmas, whan nights grow lang,
And starnies shine fu' clear,
Whan fock, the nippin cauld to bang,
Their winter hap-warms wear,
Near Edinbrough a fair there hads,
I wat there's nane whase name is,
For strappin dames an sturdy lads,
And cap and stoup, mair famous
Than it that day.

Upo' the tap o' ilka lum
The sun bagan to keek,
And bad the trig made maidens come
A sightly joe to seek
At Hallow-fair, whare browsters rare
Keep gude ale on the gantries,
And dinna scrimp ye o' a skair
O' kebbucks frae their pantries,
Fu' saut that day.

Here country John in bonnet blue,
An' eke his Sunday claise on,
Rins efter Meg wi' rokelay new,
An' sappy kisses lays on;
She'll tauntin say, ye silly coof!
Be o' your gab mair spairin;
He'll tak the hint, and criesh her loof
Wi' what will buy her fairin,
To chow that day.

Here chapman billies tak their stand,
An' shaw their bonny wallies;
Wow, but they lie fu' gleg aff hand
To trick the silly fallows:
Heh, Sirs! what cairds and tinklers come,
An' ne'er-do-weel horse-coupers,
An' spae-wives fenzying to be dumb,
Wi' a' siclike landloupers,
To thrive that day.

Here Sawny cries, frae Aberdeen;
'Come ye to me fa need:
The brawest shanks that e'er were seen
I'll sell ye cheap an' guid.
I wyt they are as protty hose
As come fae weyr or leem:
Here tak a rug, and shaw's your pose:
Forseeth, my ain's but teem
An' light this day.'

Ye wives, as ye gang thro' the fair,
mak your bargains hooly!
O' a' thir wylie lowns beware,
Or fegs they will ye spulzie.
For fairn-year Meg Thamson got,
Frae thir mischievous villains,
A scaw'd bit o' a penny note,
That lost a score o' shillins
To her that day.

The dinlin drums alarm our ears,
The serjeant screechs fu' loud,
'A' gentlemen and volunteers
That wish your country gude,
Come here to me, and I shall gie
Twa guineas and a crown,
A bowl o' punch, that like the sea
Will soum a lang dragoon
Wi' ease this day.'

Without the cuissers prance and nicker,
An' our the ley-rig scud;
In tents the carles bend the bicker,
An' rant an' roar like wud.
Then there's sic yellowchin and din,
Wi' wives and wee-anes gablin,
That ane might true they were a-kin
To a' the tongues at Babylon,
Confus'd that day.

Whan Phoebus ligs in Thetis lap,
Auld Reekie gies them shelter,
Whare cadgily they kiss the cap,
An' ca't round helter-skelter.
Jock Bell gaed furth to play his freaks,
Great cause he had to rue it,
For frae a stark Lochaber aix
He gat a clamihewit
Fu' sair that night.

'Ohon!' quo' he, 'I'd rather be
By sword or bagnet stickit,
Than hae my crown or body wi'
Sic deadly weapons nicket.'
Wi' that he gat anither straik
Mair weighty than before,
That gar'd his feckless body aik,
An' spew the reikin gore,
Fu' red that night.

He pechin on the cawsey lay,
O' kicks and cuffs weel sair'd;
A Highland aith the serjeant gae,
'She maun pe see our guard.'
Out spak the weirlike corporal,
'Pring in ta drunken groat,
For that neist day.

Good focks, as ye come frae the fair,
Bide yont frae this black squad;
There's nae sic savages elsewhere
Allow'd to wear cockade.
Than the strong lions's hungry maw,
Or tusk o' Russian bear,
Frae their wanruly fellin paw
Mair cause ye hae to fear
Your death that day.

A wee soup drink dis unco weel
To had the heart aboon;
It's good as lang's a canny chiel
Can stand steeve in his shoon.
But gin a birkie 's owr weel sair'd,
It gars him aften stammer
To pleys taht bring him to the guard,
An' eke the Council-chawmir,
Wi' shame that day.
___

Guid guising an galoshin oot alang the causey
but dinna lat the ghaists an bogles fleg ye.
An whan dookin for aiples - dinna droun
or clart yersels fae the traicle anes hingin doun!

Andy

----------

From: R. F. Hahn <sassisch at yahoo.com>
Subject: Literature

Dear Lowlanders,

And below once again, for good measure to further enhance your Halloween,
Klaus Groth's Lowlands Saxon (Low German) poem with my English translation
(http://www.geocities.com/grothwarken/).

Regards,
Reinhard/Ron

===

   DAT GRULI HUS
   vun Klaus Groth

   Dat süht bi Dag' so fründli ut
        mit Doer un Finstern gel,
   Des Nachts is dat en gruli Hus,
        denn slarrt dat langs de Del.

   Dat slarrt op Tüffeln, Schritt voer Schritt,
        dat slarrt de hin un her,
   Doch wenn de Dag des Morgens graut,
        so hört man dat ni mehr.

   Dats jüs, as gung en ole Fru,
        un söch de ganze Nach,
   Un kunn ni finn' un söch un söch
        bet an den hellen Dag.

   Dat kumt des Abends ut de Stuv
        un wannert langs de Del,
   Un föhlt herum bi jede Doer,
        as wenn de Sloetel fehl.

   Dat funßelt an de Koekendoer,
        dat kloetert an den Rink,
   Dat kraut un grabbelt an de Bred
        un röhrt an Slött un Klink.

   Denn slurrt dat wieder an de Wand
        un raschelt in den Gank,
   Denn pett dat langs de Trepp tohöch
        un trufft de Boen hentlank.

   Dar trufft dat langsam hin un her
        un wöhlt in Törf un Kaff,
   Denn pett dat wedder na de Luk
        un kumt de Trepp heraf.

   De Saaldoer hett en isen Ked,
        dar ritt dat ganze Stunn':
   Doch wenn de Hahn des Morgens kreiht,
        ist jedesmal verswunn'.

===

   THE EERIE HOUSE
   by Klaus Groth
   Translation: R. F. Hahn ©2002

   It looks so welcoming by day
        with yellow frames and doors.
   But it's an eerie house by night.
        There's shuffling across floors.

   There're slippers shuffling, step by step.
        There's shuffling on and on.
   But with the new day's morning light
        those shuffling sounds are gone.

   It sounds like an old woman's walk
        in search throughout the night.
   It seeks and seeks but cannot find
        until the day's first light.

   At nightfall it moves from the lounge,
        comes crawling gingerly
   And gropes about outside each door
        as though it lacked the key.

   It fiddles with the kitchen door,
        it rattles and it knocks,
   It claws and fumbles at the boards
        and touches knobs and locks.

   Then it slides on along the wall --
        swish! - down the hall some more.
   Then it goes climbing up the stairs
        onto the attic floor.

   Up there it slowly stomps about
        and rummages and tears.
   Then it steps back toward the hatch
        and comes back down the stairs.

   The lounge door's heavy iron chain
        keeps rattling, on and on.
   But when at dawn the rooster crows
        the whole thing's simply gone.


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