A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever/ Birse Farmer, Circa 1963
3rd December 2012
Heich simmer makks the hochs a love-juice cauldron.
Dauchlin astride a sunshine-drookit dyke
I heard an engine purr, an iron bawdron.
The bowfin o a coo’s-lick touslie tyke.
Syne suddent, frae ayont deep shaddaed trees
A fairm-chiel drave his combine ower the lan
The jetty curls upon his broo ableeze
Wi sun, as ony bonnie Grecian Pan
Braid showders, glistenin broon, the loon, bare-backit
Sat squar abune the corn like a young God
Ridin alang the barley-rigs half-nyaakit
Watched bi a lustfu virgin, an a bawd.
Reid kerchief lichtly wippit neth his chin
A mou wad sook the hinney frae a bee
Sweet fusslin, ower the birrin chariot’s din
He smiled full on me, wi a bull-black ee.
Twa birdies flichtered, coortin ben the corn
Syne drappt tae couple, as pretensions tirred
Their birdsang like the soundin o a horn
Biddin me cast ma bairnhood tae the yird.
He raisse tae cry his tyke, the stoot claith held
The fite swan o his secret manhood trussed
As faist’s a muir-fire wi a breem is melled
I kent the gnaawin thorn-stob o lust.