Friday Poem

///
Happiness
Meg Batemen

Often have I seen them come together,
two old friends, two crofters,
who after a brief murmured greeting
will stand wordlessly together,
side by side, not facing each other,
and look out on the land whose
ways and memories unite them,
breathe in the air, and the scent of
tobacco and damp and lamb scour,
in the certain knowledge that talk
would hamper that expansive communion,
break in on their golden awareness
of all there is between them.

-with thanks to Neil

——————————————

Toileachas
Meg Batemen

‘S tric a chunnaic mi iad a' tighinn ri chèile,
dithis seann eòlach, dithis chroitearan,
is às dèidh dhaibh an latha a bheannachadh
seasaidh iad còmhla gun fhacal tuilleadh,
taobh ri taobh, chan ann aghaidh ri aghaidh,
is iad a' coimhead a-mach air an talamh
a chumas na fhilltean an uile chuimhne,
a' tarraing anail is cùbhraidheachd
tombaca, fuaradh is spùt nan uan,
‘s an t-eòlas ac'gun cuireadh cainnt
bacadh air a' chomanachadh òrbhuidh ud,
gum briseadh i a-staigh air am mothachadh
air na th'ann de dhualchas eatarra

-le taing do Niall


From Fair Wind/Soirbheas (Polygon, 2007)

//