/lit/ - Literature

Scottish Vernacular Poetry, first sample 1550s second 1990s
1.
Schir, quhen I dwelt in Italy,
I lerit the craft of palmestry;
Schaw me the luffe, schir, of your hand,
And I sall gar you undirstand,
Gif your grace be infortunat,
Or gif ye be predestinat.
I see ye will have fiftene quenis,
And fiftene scoir of concubenies.
Now, the Virgin Mary save your grace,
Saw evir man sa quyt a face,
Swa grit ane arme, sa fair ane hand,
Thair is not sic a leg in all this land.
War ye in harnes, I think na wounder,
Howbeid ye dang doun twenty hunder.
2.
On the Brierielaw
in the dreipin rain
A haud afore
this gray heidstane.

An ma tears synds doun
wi the droukin rain
at their twa names
on the grenite stane.

Whyle the weit skails doun
the cauldrif stane,
A burst ma hert
for ma warld that’s gane.

Syne the sun breks throu –
Daith sants awa
as A staun ma lane
on the Brierielaw.

Please explain why it might be wrong.