A Walk in the Windrush Valley

Tags

Cotswolds, Gloucestershire, hay bales, Sherborne, Windrush valley

Photo by Candia Dixon-Stuart

Heard the wind rustling or rushing through the leaves. Now I know why the valley has that name.

Riparian Reverie

Tags

Autumn, bales, Cotswolds, harvest, Latin, Oxfordshire, Thames path

Title for Latin-lovers- oh, I mean Classicists, not fans of Argentinian Tango!

Photo by Candia Dixon-Stuart

Plague Poetry

Tags

15th century, Dunfermline, fabulist, Makar, Middle Scots, Robert henryson, Scottish poetry, the plague, University of Glasgow, vernacular

Maybe we would take a different perspective on disease and punishment nowadays, but an interesting 15th century perspective, nevertheless…

 

Photo : Kim Traynor, 2011.  Wikipedia.

Ane Prayer for the Pest

by Robert Henryson

O eterne god, of power infinyt,

To quhois hie knawledge na thing is of obscure

That is, or was, or evir salbe, perfyt,

in to thy sicht, quhill that this warld indure;

Haif mercy of us, Indigent and peure;

Thow dois na wrang to puneiss our offens:

O Lord, that is to mankynd haill succure,

Preserve us fra this perrelus pestilens.We the beseik, o Lord of lordis all,

thy eiris inclyne and heir our grit regrait;

We ask remeid of the in generall,

That is of help and comfort desolait;

bot thow with rewth our hairtis recreat,
We ar bot deid but only thy clemens:
We the exhort, on kneis law prostrait,
Preserf us fra this perrellus pestilens.We ar richt glaid thow puneiss our trespass
be ony kind of uthir tribulatioun,
Wer it thy will, o lord of hevin, allaiss,
that we sowld thus be haistely put doun,
and dye as beistis without confessioun,
That nane dar mak with uthir residence.
O blissit Jesu, that woir the thorny croun,
Preserve us frome this perrelus pestilens.Use derth, o lord, or seiknes, and hungir soir,
and slaik thy plaig that is so penetryve.
Thy pepill ar perreist: quha ma remeid thairfoir,
bot thow, o lord, That for thame Lost thy lyve?
Suppoiss our syn be to the pungityve,
Oure deid ma nathing our synnys recompens.
Haif mercy, lord, we ma not with the stryve:
preserve us etc.Haif mercy, lord, haif mercy, hevynis king!
Haif mercy of thy pepill penetent;
Haif mercy of our petouss punissing;
retreit the sentence of thy Just Jugement
Aganis us synnaris, that servis to be schent:
Without mercy, we ma mak no defens.
Thow that, but rewth, upoun the rude was rent,
preserve us frome this perrellus pestilens.Remmember, Lord, how deir thow hes us bocht,
That for us synnaris sched thy pretius blude,

Now to redeme that thow hes maid of nocht,
That is of vertew barrane and denude;
Haif rewth, Lord, of thyne awin symilitude;
Puneiss with pety and nocht with violens.
We knaw it is for our Ingratitude
That we ar puneist with this pestilens.

Thow grant us grace for till amend our miss,
And till evaid this crewall suddane deid;
We knaw our syn is all the cause of thiss,
for oppin syn thair is set no remeid.
The Justice of god mon puneiss than bot dreid,
for by the law he will with non dispens:
quhair Justice laikis thair is Eternall feid,
of god that sowld preserf fra pestilens.

Bot wald the heiddismen that sowld keip the law
Pueneiss the peple for thair transgressioun,
Thair wald na deid the peple than owrthraw:
bot thay ar gevin so planely till oppressioun,
That god will not heir thair intercessioun;
bot all ar puneist for thair Innobediens
be sword or deid withowttin remissioun,
And hes Just cause to send us pestilens.

Superne/ Lucerne/ guberne/ this pestilens,
preserve/ and serve/ that we not sterve thairin.
Declyne/ that pyne/ be thy Devyne prudens.
O trewth/ haif rewth/ lat not our slewth us twin.
Our syt/ full tyt/ wer we contryt/ wald blin.
Dissiver/ did never/ quha evir the besocht.
Send grace/ with space/ and us Imbrace/ fra syn.
Latt nocht be tynt that thow so deir hes bocht.

O prince preclair/ this cair/ cotidiane,
We the exhort/ distort/ it in exyle.
Bot thow remeid/ this deid/ is bot ane trane,
for to dissaif/ the laif/ and thame begyle.
Bot thow sa wyiss/ devyiss to mend this byle
Of this mischief/ quha ma releif/ us ocht
for wrangus win/ bot thow our syn ourfyll?
Latt not be tynt etc.

Sen for our Vyce/ that Justyce/ mon correct,
O king most hie/ now pacifie/ thy feid:
Our syn is huge/ Refuge/ we not suspect;
As thow art Juge/ deluge us of this dreid.
In tyme assent/ or We be schent with deid;
We us repent/ and tyme mispent forthocht:

Thairfoir/ Evirmoir/ be gloir/ to thy godheid
Lat nocht be tynt that thow sa deir hes bocht.

Sacred Texts from The Weston Library

Tags

Oxford exhibition, sacred texts, Weston Library

a recent exhibition at The Weston Library, Oxford.

Snowdrop Quennet for Candlemas

Tags

Candlemas, quennet, snowdrops

Candlemas Bells     White Purification    Snow Piercers

Milk Flowers

Naked Maidens       Good Christians        Ice Lilies

Mary’s Tapers

February Fairmaids     White tears         Death Flowers

Eve’s Comforters

Morning Stars

Pentecost Flowers

Mary’s Teeth

Dewdrops

Shrove Tuesday Fools

Flowers of Hope

Dingle-Dangles

Snow Bells          Eve’s Tears       Mary’s Tears

Candlemas Lilies

 

 

c Photo and poem by Candia Dixon-Stuart

 

 

 

 

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Tags

animal photography, French Bulldog, idioms, Let Sleeping Dogs Lie, proverbs

 

This good-natured canine is called Ian.

                                                      Images and original photo by Candia

 

 

Medlar Jelly (Kelmscott)

Tags

blett, culs-de-chien, jelly, Kelmscott, medlars, open-arses, poppering pear, Romeo and Juliet

Photo- and preserve!- by Candia Dixon-Stuart

 

So excited to find these at Kelmscott and then to allow them to blett, before making

jelly.  Supposed to be good with game, or cheese.

These are culs-de-chien, ‘open-arses’ and other scatologically named fruits from the rose

family.  Shakespeare and contemporaries loved exploiting double-entendre possibilities

in their lexical field- see ‘Romeo and Juliet’ and references to poppering pears etc

I added a lemon and an apple to the simmering mixture and then raised some sugar to

a rolling boil- and voila!

May- the month or the blossom?

Tags

coat dress, Drize-a-Bone, May blossom, proverb, swagman, winter wardrobe

 

My grandmother used to say,  Never cast a cloot till May is oot.

This, being translated, is tantamount to advising that one should

not strip off, or put one’s winter wardrobe away until… until

1.  The May blossom is in evidence

OR

2)  the month of May is past

 

Which is it?  In Scotland it is probably never a good idea to dispense with a

layer, whatever the time of year, or whatever plant is making its presence

felt.

Above is a photo of the May blossom in my garden yesterday.  I compromised by

wearing a coat dress – ha!  Today I would have needed a Drize-a Bone Aussie

head-to-toe proofed swagman garment.

It’s a wonder there’s any blossom left on the trees after this morning’s deluge!

Mansplaining Quennet

Tags

euphemism, Father of Lies, generic, mansplaining, quennet, rhetoric, smokescreen

Females also guilty – should be ‘Mankindsplaining!’ (New generic?)

 

Hot air   forked tongues   terminal inexactitudes

filthy whitewash

tranparent smokescreens   inexcusable excuses   unmitigated untruths

hollow rants

iniquitous insinuations  criminal understatements  overblown rhetoric

smooth sham

Father of Lies

sweeping evasions

Master of Deceit

euphemistic gloss

hyperbolic tirades

Hath God said?

rash incitements

hollow rhetoric   smooth tongues  transparent excuses

iniquitous inexactitudes

Taking A Liberty

Tags

anarchy, Andromeda, Animal Farm, Burne-Jones, Cassiopeia, casuistry, censorship, Diaz, Dr Atl, etymology, free expression, guerilla warfare, hacendados, Heaven, Hell, Liberty, liberty/licence, Pre-Raphaelites, Prometheus, revolution, volcanoes

Another poem inspired by Prometheus Unbound

by P B Shelley:

Andromeda by Burne-Jones: Wikipedia

 

A wheel will come full circle, you will find.

The outcome’s in the etymology

of ‘revolution.’  Think ‘Animal Farm.’

 

‘You seize the flower; the bloom is shed,’ Rab said.

Heaven and Hell are one’s inner landscapes.

Give a man an inch; he’ll take a mile.

 

Liberty/ licence – where to draw the line?

Free expression/ censorship : who can judge?

Anarchy is based on casuistry.

 

Prometheus played with fire and was burnt.

Imagination versus tyranny.

He who is king over himself is free.

 

Cassiopeia took the liberty

of a frank assessment of others’ looks.

Say nowt if you can’t say anything nice.

 

Why did the Pre-Raphaelites feel free

to create soft porn from mythology?

Liberty bodices off; shackles on.

 

‘When tigers are unleashed, who controls them?’

said Diaz, while Dr Atl opposed

slaves’ exploitation by hacendados,

 

exploding guerilla warfare into print,

like lava from his beloved volcanoes –

but he still became a neo-Nazi.

 

So, I’m suspicious of all these Titans,

larger than life, whose words stream in the wind.

They’re the self-acknowledged legislators,

 

crying, ‘Liberty, equality… (Blah!)

prior to being overthrown – not by a coup –

yet everywhere men are free, but in chains.