Blue-a-knowe

Bing’d sticks bleezed roon dulled troots an blues ill-fun,

Whar Roabin bowl, Lang John, Hakeye lay a’,

Wae blid-wat seggan bled an het esh gun;

The ither worls sae mony worls awa.

Dark boortries flured an clooded whuns bleezed bricht,

What hizzies, cried frae lang aheid, gien in

An waitin fing’rs trimmled in the nicht

Whun Brock riz oot: dark nichts o darkest sin.

They shaped bricht wies they’d trevel yince they leed,

An thon dark pads they sweeted wat tae tak,

Far empy wies, quait-waitin oot aheid,

They’d flee alang, nae thocht o luckin bak.

Noo yin, gan by, maks bak tae luck ower in,

Bak ower the scroag an strippit knowe; ower whar,

For bleezin wies an blid-rid dreams, they’d fin

Blak birns, grey haggit stumps, a roostin car.