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Poetry
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The Lost Pibroch
By Talisker
22 October 2006
Inspired by Neil Munro's short story written in 1896.

Pibroch - pronounced "pee-broch" soft "ch" as in "loch"
Go on sassenachs, you can do it!

Around the Hallae een,                            (Halloween)

The winds acquire a chill,

Houlets send their oorie wails,                 (owls, eerie)

Round yonder fairy hill.

Haar descends the mountain,                   (mist)

And settles on the loch,

That’s when Paruaig Dall,                        (blind Paruaig)

Plays the Lost Pibroch.                           (pibroch = pipe tune)


Within his humble bothy,                          (cabin)

Which ne’er a winnock lit,                       (window)

He rises, lifts his ancient pipes,

Begins to play a bit.

The bag held in his airm’s crook,             (arm)

Like lassie’s slender waist,

The lang drone tae the rafters,                   (long)

His fingers skeely placed.                        (skillfully)


A drumming on the low notes,

A sare and waesome tune,                      (sore and wearisome)

“Come my bairns doun the brae,             (children down the hill)

An’ gaither all aroond”.                             (gather around)

Then lilting like the billy whaup,                       (curlew)

Enchanting to the heart,

Each haunting cadence tove ‘an faw,                (rise and fall)

Then crunluadh breabach starts.                       (A piping embellishment)


The reeds sing out like angels,

Of gold and fechtie deeds,                                (brave)

And tug at weary hearstrings,

Deep sowing restless seeds.

“Come hither from the mountains,

Come hither from the glens,

There’s whisky in the fountains,

For brave and honest men”.


Then comes the crunluadh mach,                 (another piping embellishment)

A buzz like gairie-bee,                                  (bumble bee)

To tell the beasts long settled,

The time is come to flee.

The rutting stags of forest glade,

The eagles on the peaks,

To every beast of hill and field,

Blind Paruaig’s pibroch speaks.


But Paruaig lies two-hundred years,

Bleached banes beneath the clay,                             (bones)

Yet still his music thrills the ears,

When sweet his spirit plays.

Forsooth he was the hindermaist,                              (last)

The last to know the art,

Of drawing music from the hills,

And playing from the heart.



Oli (22/10/06)

Reviews
Just Wonderful!
Written by MarjoryBanks (14 comments posted) 22nd October 2006
Dearest Oli, 
 
What a wonderful way with words, to knit English, Scots and Gaelic together so skilfully - fabulous! 
 
And what a wonderful tale for Halloween - a ghostly blind piper playing laments that drift across the misty, Scottish hills. You are indeed the true heir to the talents of Burns, MacDiarmid etc...A true bard! 
 
Hahahah...no pun intended, I know you have been "barred"!  
 
Encore! Encore! Encore! S'il vous plais Monsieur!!!! 
 
Madge. 
;)
=)
Written by no1butClo (337 comments posted) 22nd October 2006
I love it when people mess around with english, and you carried this off beautifully. 
 
reading things like this reminds me of shakespeare and then i'm gone! but the rustic element is lovely 
 
nice one oli 
 
x

Written by Phil (6730 comments posted) 22nd October 2006
Wonderful Oli. Best narrative poem I've read in a long, long while. This really did it for me. Superb in content and delivery. 
 
Hearing the pipes up close in an enclosed space, as I have, is not a pleasant experience. But to hear a lone piper at dusk, with the notes echoing off the hills, is simply magical. 
 
All the best, 
 
Phil.

Written by francoise (129 comments posted) 22nd October 2006
My comment won't be a particularly insightful one, but all I can say is that you sure know how to create a combination of intimidation and admiration whenever I read your work. I have only read a few of your pieces so far, but look forward to browsing the archives on another rainy Sunday afternoon.  
 
Thankyou for your comments on my work by the way 
 
All the best 
Francoise
Scots
Written by Fledermaus (3306 comments posted) 22nd October 2006
Very nice poem. 
And a good choice of language, enough Scots to give it a Scottish feel, but mainly English so everyone can read it.

Written by Gill21 (566 comments posted) 23rd October 2006
I don't often visit poetry anymore as i find the sheer volume too intimidating to start wading through, i feel bad if i leave people out and hate reading an amazing poem but then feel incapable of reviewing it. I feel the latter now however i will leave a simple comment: 
Wonderful piece of writing. The language was exquisite and appealing and the tone was magical. I adore the Scot's you use so well. Feels like home from home. I really enjoyed it, thanks. 
:)

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