Dialect II

A’m na mair th’ jimmy ye knew
in word nor speech nor flight
I am na mair th’ bard of
verses o’ delight

I am na mair that braw soul
now seeming tae juist be
I am th’ bard o’ bitter words
I am grawin old

I am bound ‘n’ a’m lost, ah aye lassy yer face
though ah be fun ‘n’ count th’ cost
always be a saddened breath
and then mah hert be soft

I stravaig noo in shadow dance
some shade o’ times lang gone
I am nae yit an echo of
mah whispers or mah song

My dialect isn’t great but I will keep working on it. English translation below

I am no more the man you knew
in word nor speech nor flight
I am no more the poet of
verses of delight

I am no more that handsome soul
now seeming to just be
I am the bard of bitter words
I am growing old

I am bound and I am lost, I still miss your face
though I be found and count the cost
always be a saddened breath
and then my heart be soft

I wander now in shadow dance
some shade of times long gone
I am not yet an echo of
my whispers or my song

Dialect

Ah did gie mah hert tae you
forever oan mah sleeve
if ye wid bit tak’ me in yer arms
and ne’er let me lea

I did gie mah soul tae you
it glistened in th’ light
if ye wid bit tak’ it tae yer heart
forever mak’ it right

I did gie mah voice tae you
on endless nights alone
in bitter tears ‘n’ softened prayers
the ravens hae noo flown

I did gie mah een tae you
and noo thay ainlie see
through salted wounds ‘n’ lonely words
now roiled wi’ th’ sea

I did gie mah loue tae you
and aye dae tae this day
my hert aches tae be wi’ you
on this ‘n’ ilka day

Rue

I’m glad the dispensary delivers to me at home
on Thursdays
I can sit glazed to try and drive the sorrow down
my haunted dreams overtaking
my vision by night and by day
I have Small Blue Thing on repeat
and Ms. Vega sings it to my soul
I am scattering like light
My eyes, still hazel, no longer shine
but glisten wet and near opaque
no longer windows to anywhere of import
I’ll sit in the shower until the water runs cold
fetal on the floor with my hands around my knees
tears washing freely from my face
I wonder if you cry, but doubt you do
least of all for me
if you ever think of me at all
I know I’ve lost my mind to grief
to bereavement for the still living
the melancholy deepens every day
The ban-sìth keens at the door now, or merely
In my head
Where I would only you could knock


Ah did gie mah hert tae you
forever oan mah sleeve
if ye wid bit tak’ me in yer arms
and ne’er let me lea