LL-L: "Online resources" LOWLANDS-L, 01.OCT.2000 (04) [S]

[Lowlands-L]

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  L O W L A N D S - L * 01.OCT.2000 (04) * ISSN 189-5582 * LCSN 96-4226
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From: Sandy Fleming [sandy at scotstext.org]
Subject: "Online resources"

The ful text o D. Gibb Mitchell's "Sermons in Braid Scots"
is up on ScotsteXt nou. This is the first text A'v duin
chaingin the writer's original Scots ti a modern staunart,
but hivin tried this ance A'v decided it's no richt possible
ti dae this athoot lossin certain things fae the original
that folk micht be interested in (ie the writers mistaks
an inconsistencies can be enlichtenin ti students o langage!),
sae in the ayont A'll be presentin baith the original texts
an the ScotsteXt staunardised texts.

For a wonder, this hale beuk haes been spellchecked uisin
a Scots spellin dictionar A'v been biggin - tho that disna
mean it's perfit! A'd be interested ti hear aboot onything
ye dinna like aboot the spellin sae's A can try an gar this
spellin dictionar please aabody (some o the time!), but keep
in mind that it's meant for lattin folk can write til a
formal staunart - the'r nae ettle ti represent ony dialecks
ava.

Ti leuk at the beuk, gae ti ScotsteXt (URL ablo), sneck on
"Factual" syne sneck on the link ti the beuk.

Mitchell's sermons can seem a bit oot o date at places - the
idea that the hale universe wis made for man alane wi the
plooman in parteeclar at the centre o the eternal rhythm o
the hervest kin o faas flet in this day o endangered species,
climate an gene pools, but aa the same his Scots could be
aesy adapted ti modern rhetoric an is grand eneuch ti be
worth o study in itsel. Here a example:

    Lang shaidaes sklentit doun on hame an haa. The sun bored
his hinmaist rays throu the mist that hung on the hill, an
spreed his plaid o the gloamin licht ower the plains o the
sacred land. The hush o the burn rose ti the clachan as it
bickered by, like a hymn at the nichtfaa in praise o the day
that wis gane.
    The mire-mirk hung ower the warld. The wids wis cauld an
bare. Ilka tree wis rifled o its galore. The girse wis grey
an nithert. The bleatin yowes wis heard on the faur hillside
as they scurried hame ti the buchts for the nicht. The last
echoes o the bairns' mirth wis floatin awa throu the glacks
o the hills.
    Ilka fire wis bleezin bricht, an the yule logs flung their
sparks on the fluir, an the lum roared lood wi the dancin lowe.
    The simmer's wark wis by, the thrang o the hairst wis past.
Ilka barn wis packit weel. Natur's haun haed been fou an skaillin.
The guidman's hert wis blythe an merry. Nae want, nae care. The
saeson haed keepit its tryst wi him, an haunit him doun meikle
store.
    It wis a nicht whan men wad wait on God an thank Him for
His guidness, an bide his blessin. A nicht whan the ee wad
wander heevenwards an steal a leuk ayont the blue inti the
Halie Place!
    It wis a nicht that touched the sowel an the hert o man,
an swung him back inti bygane times whan Jehovah haed trysted
wi his faithers. Memory trudged back the road o promise, an
peered ahint the cruiks an thraws, eident ti trace the
tramp-marks o God's plan!
    Unco strainge wis the sichts he saw--the great Almichty
comin doun an broodin ower an haudin grip o his ain folk. He
saw a God that's face wis turned ti the earth, that's een wis
aye on man's richt an wrang; a Bein that mixed in the stramash
o man's daeins, an grippit the threids o human action an warped
them inti His ain loom!
    It wis glorious ti staun an listen ti the click o the Divine
shuttle, an hear the whir o the sacred wheel, an the whoop o the
threids as they cam thegither--a strainge crimson streak twined
an twisted throu aa the wob!

Sandy
http://scotstext.org

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