Fairies an' Shadows (Scottish Dialect Version)
Amidst th' green, th' hills did rise
ain yit left valleys filled wi' guise.
Whaur fairies drifted in rollin' mists
ain lovers mit fur faithful trysts.
A Queen was said tae hauld th' gift,
tae lift th' veil atween times rift.
With emerald een she lay time bare,
th' future was seen within 'er staur.
T’is said a mortal she took tae 'er side,
in Eildon hills, Thomas woods reside.
Between th' trees his shadaw leapt,
while wi' th' Fairies his body was kept.
Th' Fairy Queen gracioosly welcomed him
Ain sit in th' wey o satisfy his every whim.
But Thomas feared whit he didn’t kin,
fur efter aw he was but a mortal cheil.
She showed heem visions ay whit hud passed
Ain suin th' visions ay future flashed.
She shook wi' th' effort each scene did tak',
fallin' intae a trance, yit still wide waukin'.
An' Thomas felt th' days quickly flash by,
fur seven days he watched ben 'er inner eye.
Ain 'en she tooched fingers tae his silky heed,
tae pass oan th' gift, jist as she’d said.
“Use it weel Thomas”, she softly spoke
Ain kissed his cheek wi' fairy stroke.
Then bade heem a final teary farewell,
wonderin' at th' stories he’d noo hae tae tell.
Th' other fairies gaithered tightly aw aroond,
dancin' abit th' leaf encrusted grun.
Their smiles lightin' up th' darkened skye,
illuminatin' his human village near by.
“Follaw th' light”, they chanted an' chimed,
as ower th' heaither Thomas quickly climbed.
“Keep weel tae th' right”, they aw sang it lood,
when Thomas looked back he saw naethin' but clood.
Thomas felt strange as he traveled oan haem,
his feit crunchin' th' earth loodly as he roamed.
Aa 'at he’d seen was jiggin in his heed,
he e'en thooght mebbe he was weel an' truly dead.
Mebbe he’d imagined th' Fairies an' th' Queen.
Surely it coods hae bin jist a huir uv a lang dream;
But tae his surprise when he arrived at his door,
mair shocks waur tae lay directly in store.
His fowk greeted heem as if he’d bin tint,
t'is 'en he foond it hoo much time it hud cost.
Fur t’was nae seven days he’d bin missin' frae his life,
he’d bin gain seven years, sae said his guidwife.
They’d aw given heem up fur maimed ur dead,
Thomas jist stuid tryin' tae gie it ben his heed.
Seven years, he thooght, surely it wasn’t true,
he hud nae explanation an' didn’t ken whit tae dae.
“I’ve bin oan a joorney”, he said efter a time,
“seen th' pest an' th' future, th' guid an' th' grime.
Ain noo Ah main teel th' warld whit Ah see,
fur only Ah noo ken whit will come tae be.”
His guidwife thooght heem gain bapit, ur mebbe a bit fae,
thooght he’d come aroond an' fur 'at she wood pray.
But Thomas got nae better as each day dawned clear
ain his visions left mony wi' sic' growin' fear.
A body morn he arose tae see a stoatin croon fall,
as he saw kin' Alexanders' certain death call.
Kin' Jimmy th' foorth woods suin follaw an aw,
as aw ay his visions did successfully foreteel.
Th' visions cam fest an' frantically furioos,
sometimes t’woods seem he was pure quite curioos.
He wrote them aw doon, usin' rhythm an' rhyme,
certain 'at aw, woods be revealed in guid time.
Some caused heem alarm an' others stoatin pain,
as he aft recognized mony 'at waur named.
He foresaw th' death ay fowk an' friends,
each day an' nicht mair revelations woods send.
Far intae th' future, he saw th' union ay th' crowns
Ain th' battle ay Floggen, whaur sae mony waur cut doon.
He saw stoatin wars an' disasters, hunger an' peace,
then cried sae mony days, fur some kin' ay release.
He’d donner back tae th' fairy strath oan mony a day
hopin' th' fairy queen woods tak' th' gift awa'.
Fur a gift he wasn’t sure, it woods end up tae be,
mair a curse, frae which he yearned tae be free;
But th' Fairies remained silent, hidden behin' th' veil,
he called an' he called, but nae a body answered his hail.
He slept in th' strath, ben a day an' a nicht,
yit they aw remained cleverly hidden frae secht.
An' still th' scenes in his heed, danced in his een.
intermittently laced wi' his ain sorrowful cries.
He cooldn’t gonnae-no them, nae matter hoo stoaner he tried,
“he’d jist hud tae bide wi' them”, he finally sighed.
A body nicht he saw th' Haigs at Scottish Bemersyde,
as he looked straecht athwart, Times' stoatin divide.
He saw Arthur an' Merlin, an' th' Knights ay th' roon,
then saw whaur Excalibur woods eventually be foond.
He was a master poit tae th' fowk ay th' day,
ain his magic rivaled Merlin, some folk woods say.
He becam knoon tae th' warld as, Thomas th' True,
fur tae teel a lie, he simply didn’t ken hoo tae dae.
Nostradamus at th' time, was soothsayin' an aw
Ain Merlin was abit, thrang castin' his spell.
It was a time ay kings an' bludy swatched crowns,
coort jesters an' half-witted village clowns.
'En finally a body nicht, Thomas raised his wabbit heed
Ain afair his huir uv a een, he saw himself dead.
He wrote it doon, jist loch th' visions afore,
then he waited tae see, whit Death hud in store.
Fur a scuttle nights, a wee dug barked an' whined,
aa ben th' nicht, as th' moon softly shined.
Ain oan th' nicht ay th' seventh, naethin' was heard,
as Thomas lay deid efter writin' his lest wuid;
"Th' fairies hae come , th' fairies ur here,
I gang back tae their lain, withit onie despair;
Tae those left behin' Ah noo say mah goodbyes,
knaw thaur is nae sadness, nur tears in mah een.
"Th' gift Ah tak' wi' me, tae bestaw oan anither,
I ken nae tae which special sister ur brither;
The Queen will determine, fur whom it will play,
so 'at anither main see, Fairy Shadows in day."
English version
Amidst the green, the hills did rise
and yet left valleys filled with guise.
Where Fairies drifted in rolling mists
and lovers met for faithful trysts.
A Queen was said to hold the gift,
to lift the veil between times rift.
With emerald eyes she lay time bare,
the future was seen within her stare.
T’is said a mortal she took to her side,
in Eildon hills, Thomas would reside.
Between the trees his shadow leapt,
while with the Fairies his body was kept.
The Fairy Queen graciously welcomed him
and set about to satisfy his every whim.
But Thomas feared what he didn’t understand,
for after all he was but a mortal man.
She showed him visions of what had passed
and soon the visions of future flashed.
She shook with the effort each scene did take,
falling into a trance, yet still wide awake.
And Thomas felt the days quickly flash by,
for seven days he watched through inner eye.
And then she touched fingers to his silky head,
to pass on the gift, just as she’d said.
“Use it well Thomas”, she softly spoke
and kissed his cheek with fairy stroke.
Then bade him a final teary farewell,
wondering at the stories he’d now have to tell.
The other Fairies gathered tightly all around,
dancing about the leaf encrusted ground.
Their smiles lighting up the darkened sky,
illuminating his human village near by.
“Follow the light”, they chanted and chimed,
as over the heather Thomas quickly climbed.
“Keep well to the right”, they all sang out loud,
when Thomas looked back he saw nothing but cloud.
Thomas felt strange as he traveled on home,
his feet crunching the earth loudly as he roamed.
All that he’d seen was dancing in his head,
he even thought maybe he was well and truly dead.
Maybe he’d imagined the Fairies and the Queen,
surely it could have been just a very long dream.
But to his surprise when he arrived at his door,
more shocks were to lay directly in store.
His family greeted him as if he’d been lost,
t'is then he found out how much time it had cost.
For t’was not seven days he’d been missing from his life,
he’d been gone seven years, so said his good wife.
They’d all given him up for maimed or dead,
Thomas just stood trying to get it through his head.
Seven years, he thought, surely it wasn’t true,
he had no explanation and didn’t know what to do.
“I’ve been on a journey”, he said after a time,
“seen the past and the future, the good and the grime.
And now I must tell the world what I see,
for only I know now what will come to be.”
His wife thought him gone daft, or maybe a bit fae,
thought he’d come around and for that she would pray.
But Thomas got no better as each day dawned clear
and his visions left many with such growing fear.
One morning he arose to see a great crown fall,
as he saw King Alexanders' certain death call.
King James The Fourth would soon follow as well,
as all of his visions did successfully foretell.
The visions came fast and frantically furious,
sometimes t’would seem he was really quite curious.
He wrote them all down, using rhythm and rhyme,
certain that all would be revealed in good time.
Some caused him alarm and others great pain,
as he often recognized many that were named.
He foresaw the death of family and friends,
each day and night more revelations would send.
Far into the future, he saw the Union of the Crowns
and the Battle of Floggen, where so many were cut down.
He saw great wars and disasters, hunger and peace
crying so many days, for some kind of release.
He’d walk back to the Fairy Valley on many a day,
hoping the Fairy Queen would take the gift away.
For a gift he wasn’t sure it would end up to be,
more a curse from which he yearned to be free.
But the Fairies remained silent, hidden behind the veil.
He called and he called, but no one answered his hail;
He slept in the Valley, through a day and a night,
yet they all remained, cleverly hidden from sight.
And still the scenes in his head, danced in his eyes,
intermittently laced with his own sorrowful cries.
He couldn’t stop them, no matter how hard he tried,
“he’d just had to live with them”, he finally sighed;
One night he saw the Haigs at Scottish Bemersyde,
as he looked straight across Times' great divide.
He saw Arthur and Merlin, and the Knights of The Round,
then saw where Excalibur would eventually be found.
He was a master poet to the people of the day
and his magic rivaled Merlin, some folk would say.
He became known to the world as, Thomas The True,
for to tell a lie, he simply didn’t know how to do.
Nostradamus at the time, was soothsaying as well
and Merlin was about busy casting his spell.
It was a time of kings and bloody stolen crowns,
court jesters and half-witted village clowns.
Then finally one night, Thomas raised his tired head,
right before his very eyes he saw himself dead;
He wrote it down, just like the visions before,
then he waited to see, what Death had in store.
For six nights, a little dog barked and whined,
all through the night, as the moon softly shined;
And on the night of the seventh, nothing was heard,
as Thomas lay dead after writing his last word
"The Fairies have come , the Fairies are here,
I go back to their land, without any despair.
To those left behind, I now say my goodbyes,
know there is no sadness nor tears in my eyes."
"The gift I take with me, to bestow on another,
I know not to which, special sister or brother.
The Queen will determine for whom it will play,
so that another may see, Fairy Shadows in day."
Author notes
Based on the Legend of Thomas the Rhymer also know as Thomas the True in Scottish Literature.
In a list
A contest entry
- Ya Gotta Check This One Out-Please Help Me with My ART -10 OPTIONS by Roaddog Wolf.
3000 points, ended October 6, 2007, 13 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - ENNYFING COLLOQUIAL by jimmy20johns.
1800 points, ended October 31, 2008, 13 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 21 of 21
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An ambitious ballad. I enjoyed it very much.
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This is fabulous. Thank you for entering it.
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wow … what a story … I am enchanted …
(I have skipped the scotts version though
)
what a great lesson about how a gift can be perceived as a condemnation and how each coin has two sides … maybe we all sometimes play with the idea of desiring to be clairvoyant, yet have we thought over the consequences ? I can imagine that being a seer of prophet must be a great burden and responsibility to bear, far from the idea of glory and power that this gift promises …
a masterfully written legend that kept me spellbound till the last line …
thank you so much for sharing your talent,
maa
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How wonderful to find someone else who writes in Scots!
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Wow, that was very very cool. I love it!!!
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what an amazing story you told here a bit lengthy, but, as i noticed, that was because of the dialect version, so I skipped straight down to th' scottish
I really like this tale you've woven here, and you couldn't have found better inspiration thanks a million, and good luck in your contest
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Wonderful!
What a great piece great job!
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wow quite a story
I read a very relative message fromn these lines although my attention span was surely tried. I had a little trouble deciphering the later stanza's but knowing the ability of the author am prone to believe it properly accented but that is bised a bit. I llike the read and I will read it again .
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You wrote this? I can't belive it, it is just like my fave poem called Elves by D J Conway.
I absolutely lopve this, will be bookmarking and checking more of your stuff!
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Faerie-lious
Given my love of faeries, and Celtic hertiage, Im loving this poem. It's a good write, and it was worth my time.
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very good poem!! great read!! you did a great job!!!! keep up the good work!
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absolutely delightful read
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that was extremly long but well writen, i loved the voice that you used. good luck in your contest abd great write
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Ah'm no' that sure aboot the Doric version. Ye canna mak a ward intae Scots just by changing the vowel, ye ken. Hivin' said that, ah wish ye the best o' guid fortune wi' ony future efforts. Ah doot ye maun hae read the ballad Thomas the Rhymer?
http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/child/ch037.htm
That's an awfy fine bit o' verse, an tae improve upon it is shairly difficult. Best Wishes.
And Tam Linn is anither fine tale:
http://www.tam-lin.org/front.html
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Oh my goodness!!! I am in love with faries and you took this poem to a whole new leavel!!! I absoululy love this poem!!! You did an excellent job!!! GREAT WRITE!!!! KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK!!!!
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Excellent!
Very nicely done! Good rhyming throughout. I enjoyed the tale, it's true!
Maureen
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I like it. It ad me captivated from the start xx
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Splendid, Beautiful, Addictive
Beautiful and addictive to read. I love it, honestly.
I rarely read such long pieces of art online, but this certainly hauled me along on a wild rampage of beautiful intensity. Your imagery was amazing and well-wrought, getting me 'drunk,' so to speak, off of the thick essence of this poem. Well-worded and splendid. Keep up the good work and never stop writing.
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You definitely pulled me into this story. It flowed amazingly smoothly and managed to hold my interest even though it was rather long. Your imagery was beautiful. It was so easy to picture the scene as if I was actually there. The graphic you used was very fitting to the story, but your words painted the picture even without it. Very well done. Good luck in the contest!
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bookmarked with distinction.
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Remarkable stuff!!!! I just love the story and Thomas' journey. Your rhyme and rhythm are wonderful. I love the lyrical nature of this. Seems some pipes should be playing in the background or something. I love what you have done with the ending!!!! And also your incorporation of the number 7--the number of completion, and rest. I like that you used it for both when he was gone and for when he was GONE. A beautiful piece of craftmanship. A really wonderful accomplishment.
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