Poem Of The Week: Learning (in English and Shetlandic Scots)
Learning
Limping piano notes climb to me,
wind up the bannisters
to where I sit with a book of poetry.
I listen to ragged understandings of rhythm
and sounds. Every run through
gets more right, tiny fingers finding
touch and speed just where it’s wanted.
Softly a song is formed
out of noise, pattern from chaos.
The tutor, pleased, picks another melody
for her to try. I apply myself once more
to my poetry, but I wonder
if I’ll go my way as easily as she.
Laernin
Hirplin piano notts clim ta me,
win up da bannisters
ta whaar a’m dippit wi a book o poetry.
I listen ta pellet twiggins o rhythm
an soonds. Ivvery rin trowe
gits mair richt, mootie fingers finnin
touch an speed jöst whaar hit’s waantit.
Peerie-wyes a sang is wirkit
oot fae hooro, pattren fae stramash.
Da mester, plaised, picks anidder melody
fir her ta try. I apply mesel eence mair
ta me poetry, bit I winder
if a’ll geng me wye as aesy as shö.
Maxine Rose Munro is a poet and Shetlander who writes in both English and Shetlandic Scots. She has been published in several journals and anthologies including Glasgow Review of Books. Read and hear more of her work here
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Wonderful.
Both for poetry that presents itself as limping along, a pale echo of notes that yet resonate brightly and only through these words, and for using the shoe horn technique of a swift follow on to deftly bring the Shetlandic Scots to life.
Cinderella Shetlandic Scots goes to the ball.