A Child`s Calendar

Snart inngongen til eit nytt år, 2016. Eg les "The Collected Poems of George Mackay Brown", poeten fra den vesle byen Stromness på Orkenøyane. I poesien sin knyter han det nære og lokale saman med det store og universelle. Årstidene, landskapet, havet, folka nord i Skottland, det liturgiske året med dei katolske festdagane vert knytt saman i hans poetiske språk, og vi ser alt tydelegare og meir avklart. Mackay Brown har fleire "kalenderdikt" der han i korte og konsise setningar karakteriserar året månad for månad. " A Child`s Calendar" passar fint no ved årskiftet.

"No visitors in January
A snowman smokes a cold pipe in the yard.

They stand about like ancient women,
The February hills.
They have seen many a coming and going, the hills.

In March, Moorfea is littered
With knocked-kneed lambs.

Daffodils at the door in April,
Three shawled Marys.
A large splurges in galilees of sky.

And in May
A russet stallion shoulders the hill apart.
The mares tremble.

The June bee
Bumps in the pane with a heavy bag of plunder.

Srangers swarms in July
With cameras, binoculars, bird books.

He thumped the crag in August,
A blind blue whale.

September crofts get wrecked in blond surges.
They struggle, the harvesters.
They drag loaf and ale-kirn into winter.

In October the fishmonger
Argues, pleads, threatens at the shore.

Nothing in November
But tinkers at the door, keening with cans.

Some December midnight
Christ, lord, lie warm in our byre.
Here are stars, an ox, poverty enough."

                                                            Godt nytt år 2016 !