Fae da Grund By Vagaland

Vagaland's poem harks back to a time when people believed in trows.

Read By Greta Jacobson

As I cam by da Trölligirts
   An stoppit at da Millburn broo,
I met a peerie osmil wife
   And shö wis gadderin lukkie’s oo.

‘Göd wife, ye’re trang,’ I said ta her.
   Shö held up some fir me ta see.
‘A’ll caird it on my cairds o green,
   An spin, an mak a sark fir dee.

‘An whin du slips him ower dy head,
   Du’ll see whit nane is seen fir lang;
Du’ll kyin da Nyugl by da burn,
   Du’ll listen tae da Filgee’s sang.

‘Da doors, in green knowes oppenin,
   Will lukk dee in among wis aa,
An dere, whaar time gengs dancin by,
   Du’ll never want ta win awa.’

‘Nae need ta spaek o dat da day,
   Da sark is nedder med or skoored.’
Wi dat I spanged across da burn
   An left her, as shö stöd an glooered.

I göd a stramp or twa up ower
   An turned ta fin mysell alane,
An naethin be da burn ava
   Bit a grey, crookit, staandin-sten.