Assoc for Scottish Literature's status

Assoc for Scottish Literature

Chì mi rè geàrd na h-oidhche
dreòs air chrith ’na fhroidhneas thall air fàire,
a’ clapail le a sgiathaibh,
a’ sgapadh ’s a’ ciaradh rionnagan na h-àird’ ud…

—“Bisearta”, by Deòrsa Mac Iain Deòrsa (George Campbell Hay, 1915–1984). Born #OTD, 8 Dec, Hay fought in North Africa & winessed the Allied bombing of Bizerte in 1943

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#Scottish #literature #Gaelic #poem #poetry #warpoetry #WW2

Deorsa Mac lain Deòrsa (George Campbell Hay)
Bisearta

Chì mi rè geard na h-oidhche
dreòs air chrith ’na fhroidhneas thall air fàire,
a’ clapail le a sgiathaibh,
a’sgapadh ’s a’ ciaradh rionnagan na h-àird’ ud.

Shaoileadh tu gun cluinnte,
ge cian, o ’bhuillsgein ochanaich no caoineadh,
ràn corraich no gàir fuatha,
comhart chon cuthaich uaith no ulfhairt fhaolchon,
gun ruigeadh drannd an fhòirneirt
on fhùirneis òmair iomall fhèin an t-saoghail.
Ach siud a’ dol an leud e
ri oir an speur an tostachd olc is aognaidh.

C’ainm nochd a th’ orra,
na sràidean bochda anns an sgeith gach uinneag
a lasraichean ’s a deatach,
a sradagan is sgreadail a luchd thuinidh,
is taigh air thaigh ga reubadh
am broinn a chèile am brùchdadh toit’ a’ tuiteam?
Is cò a-nochd tha ’g atach
am Bàs a theachd gu grad ’nan cainntibh uile,
no a’ spàirn measg chlach is shailthean
air bhàinidh a’ gairm air cobhair, is nach cluinnear?
Cò a-nochd a phàigheas
seann chìs àbhaisteach na fala cumant?

Uair dearg mar lod na h-àraich,
uair bàn mar ghile thràighte an eagail èitigh,
a’ dìreadh ’a uair a’ teàrnadh,
a’ sìneadh le sitheadh àrd ’s a’ call a mheudachd,
a’ fannachadh car aitil
’s ag at mar anail dhiabhail air dhèinead,
an t-Olc ’na chridhe ’s ’na chuisle,
chì mi ’na bhuillean a’ sìoladh ’s a’ leum e.
Tha ’n dreòs ’na oillt air fàire,
’na fhàinne ròis is òir am bun nan speuran,
a’ breugnachadh ’s ag àicheadh
le ’shoillse sèimhe àrsaidh àrd nan reultan.

Bizerta
translated by George Campbell Hay

I see during the night guard
a blaze flickering, fringing the skyline over yonder,
beating with its wings
and scattering and dimming the stars of that airt.

You would think that there would be heard
from its midst, though far away, wailing and lamentation,
the roar of rage and the yell of hate,
the barking of frenzied dogs from it or the howling of wolves,
that the snarl of violence would reach
from yon amber furnace the very edge of the world;
but yonder it spreads
along the rim of the sky in evil ghastly silence.

What is their name tonight,
the poor streets where every window spews
its flame and smoke,
its sparks and the screaming of its inmates,
while house upon house is rent
and collapses in a gust of smoke?
And who tonight are beseeching
Death to come quickly in all their tongues,
or are struggling among stones and beams,
crying in frenzy for help, and are not heard?
Who tonight is paying
the old accustomed tax of common blood?

Now red like a battlefield puddle,
now pale like the drained whiteness of foul fear,
climbing and sinking,
reaching and darting up and shrinking in size,
growing faint for a moment
and swelling like the breath of a devil in intensity,
I see Evil as a pulse and a heart
declining and leaping in throbs.
The blaze, a horror on the skyline,
a ring of rose and gold at the foot of the sky,
belies and denies
with its light the ancient high tranquillity of the stars.

Assoc for Scottish Literature replied to Assoc for Scottish Literature's status

“War polarises. It works by defining otherness. But for Hay, North Africa yielded a particular sense of how all cultures live across their differences. This doesn’t polarise or neutralise anything so much as partialise it. It is not simply that death levels all, but that languages deepen and extend humanity.”

Prof Alan Riach looks at the influence of WW2 on the poetry of Sorley MacLean & George Campbell Hay

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https://www.thenational.scot/news/19307039.born-war/

#Scottish #literature #Gaelic #poetry #warpoetry #WW2

Assoc for Scottish Literature replied to Assoc for Scottish Literature's status

Rock an’ stane lay glisterin’ on aa the heichs abune.
Cool an’ kind an’ whisperin’ it drifted gently doon,
till hill an’ howe war rowed in it, an’ land an’ sea war gane.
Aa was still an’ saft an’ silent in the smoky smirr o rain.

—George Campbell Hay, “The Smoky Smirr o’ Rain”
from WIND ON LOCH FYNE (Oliver & Boyd, 1948). Hay revised it into a longer, 8-verse poem in 1983, which can be found in his COLLECTED POEMS & SONGS

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#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage

The Smoky Smirr o Rain
by George Campbell Hay

A misty mornin’ doon the shore wi a hushed an’ caller air,
an’ ne’er a breath frae East or West tie sway the rashes there,
a sweet, sweet scent frae Laggan’s birks gaed breathin’ on its ane,
their branches hingin beaded in the smoky smirr o rain.

The hills aroond war silent wi the mist alang the braes.
The woods war derk an’ quiet wi dewy, glintin’ sprays.
The thrushes didna raise for me, as I gaed by alane,
but a wee, wae cheep at passin’ in the smoky smirr o rain.

Rock an’ stane lay glisterin’ on aa the heichs abune.
Cool an’ kind an’ whisperin’ it drifted gently doon,
till hill an’ howe war rowed in it, an’ land an’ sea war gane.
Aa was still an’ saft an’ silent in the smoky smirr o rain.

Assoc for Scottish Literature replied to Assoc for Scottish Literature's status

She’s a solan, she’s a tramper, she’s a sea-shaker,
she’s a hawk, she’s a hammer, she’s a big-sea-breaker,
she’s a falcon, she’s a kestrel, she’s a wide-night-seeker,
she’s a river, she’s a render, she’s a foam-spray-waker…

—from “Seeker, Reaper” by George Campbell Hay
Published in Collected Poems & Songs of George Campbell Hay (EUP 2019)

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https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/seeker-reaper/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #sea #sailing #fishing