1. |
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Dr. George henderson of chirnside (1800–1864) Our bonny burnsides
Our-bonny burnsides they hae drained and dug,
The crooks o the burn they hae altered too;
The green ferny knows where the hare lay snug,
They hae cleared o’ ilk buss, and riven wi the pleugh.
The bonny green braes by the foggy dell
Where grew the broom and the black slae-thorn,
They hae levelled down wi a purpose fell,
And Nature laments as her beauties torn.
The moor and the moss they hae aa ta’en in
To add to the great man’s wealth and store,
And the green bog-land, where sykes did rin,
Will bear the hay for our kye no more.
They hae torn up the sod o’ the lang-syne fauld,
And scattered the dust o’ the hill-side cairn,
Where lay the bones o’ the warriors auld,
And Nature laments aa her beauties torn.
They hae choked up the well that flowed sae free,
And the bonny well-strand they hae drained away,
Where young maiden Helen sang in her glee,
Or hied wi her full stoups up the brae.
Where flourished the rash-bus down yon howe,
The barley rigs now wave there unshorn;
And there mong the rashes we’ll nae mair rowe,
Where Nature laments aa her beauties torn.
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2. |
krottos
04:41
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3. |
water talk [NT 78 60]
05:45
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4. |
Lamachree & Megrum till
05:13
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Lamachree and Megrum (traditional)
When first I came to sair the fremt,
Lamachree and Megrum,
It was to Auchtiedoor I skemt
Auld grey Megrum.
The Auld gude-wife smokes i the neuk,
Lamachree and Megrum,
A-orderin' at the throwither cook.
Auld grey Megrum.
The neist I gaed to Middlethird,
Lamachree and Megrum,
A better's nae abune the yird.
Auld grey Megrum.
I gaed ance to Middletack,
Lamachree and Megrum,
There I got meat to make me fat.
Auld grey Megrum.
I there got buttered breid and cheese,
Lamachree and Megrum,
And oil to keep my sheen in grease.
Auld grey Megrum.
Took a turn at Aichie’s hill,
Lamachree and Megrum,
The teuchest place I e'er gaed till.
Auld grey Megrum.
A hurb to hash and haick the loon,
Lamachree and Megrum,
There's nae his like in Buchan's boun's.
Auld grey Megrum.
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5. |
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Paddy Tunney’s translation of an bunnan bui the yellow bittern a shining variant of Cathal Buí Mac Giolla Ghunna's wry beautiful empathy with the bittern frozen head first into Lough Lough MacNean, dying for want of a drink it’s absence felt in no booming call. A hand to the Irish workers travelling to build the dam at the hungry snout.
Was the break of day but no bittern's horn filled the waking morn with its hollow boom
For I found him prone by the bare flag blown by the lough shore lone where he met his doom
His legs were sunk in the slime and slunk; a hostage held in the fangs of frost
O you of knowledge lament his going; for want of liquor his life was lost
O bittern bright it's my thousand woes that the rooks and crows are all pleasure bound
With the rats and mice as they cross the ice to indulge in vice at your funeral mound
Had word reached me of your awful plight on the ice I'd smite and the water free
You'd have all the lake your thirst to slake and we'd hold no wake for the Bunnan Bui
O it's not the blackbird that I'm bewailing or thrush assailing the blossom bray
But my bittern yellow that hearty fellow who has my hue and my wilful ways
By the loughshore bank he forever drank and his sorrow sank in the rolling wave
Come sun or rain every drop I'll drain for the cellar's empty beyond the grave
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6. |
in earth, in archive
11:33
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OOR_Scintilla Edinburgh, UK
OOR_Scintilla (Louisa Love + Clive McLachlan Powell) are a Scotland based experimental artist duo exploring the material
poetics of sound, voice and place.
Working with numerous forms of resonance across field recording, instruments, electronics + the voice, they produce environmentally-responsive work investigating hybrid and enigmatic territories with reference to ancient folk origins.
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