Yallow-trappled warbler,
gairden warbler, mavis,
jaunty blackie, spricklit
stirleen an snappy flycatcher; a chorus,
a cabbi-labbi, a yallicrack,
an if truth be telt, kinda lippened
dis filsket scriechin, dis slippit onkerry,
while we wait apö da cuckoo
i da trang haert o wir voar
noo an dan harkin
for da wheest whan der sittin
But suddenly der a vimmerin
a peerie mövment
i da bushes an trees,
aff a leg an on a leg
flittin fae branch ta twig ta spade-heft
ta mossy steyn,
apö meek fit,
apö cannie wing
An dan der robbie-redbreist,
red-trapplt, come
back again,
flitterin peerie-wyes
fae branch ta branch
his wine-red flag, wan laef
fae da hidmist hairst, liftit
bi a baff o wind, a brave haert
in sherry-coloured breist, an dat
pricks oot unseen boondaries
rings his hametoon
o wheest.
Ta ken, aal o a sudden,
dat hit wis dis, jöst
dis we waitit apön
robin, inklin
Robin, robbie-redbreist
i da callyshang o coortin,
Amontillado-breistit,
a banner flittin peerie-wyes
trig-lik an half-hoidin him
atween branches, aald
laefs, new buds
tracin his territory
o silence;
wan mintie, first
sure
inklin o voar
Notes on this poem
The translator’s note here refers to two poems featured in MPT ’The Great Flight’, as well as English bridge translations, which were printed alongside Shetlandic versions.
Arne Ruste holds a special place in contemporary Norwegian poetry. Since his debut in 1973 he has been a distinctly sensual, image-rich poet. His poems are immediate and warm; rich in knowledge of human attachment to religion and history, nature and landscape. Kretsløp (2012) is a fine ‘New and Selected’ collection from Tiden. He is an expert in rendering the big concerns of existence into apparently simple poems, often with reference to the natural world of which he is a keen observer.
Ruste and I have enjoyed mutual translation of our poems over the last decade, using English as a bridge language but, in both cases, keeping a keen eye on the Norwegian or Shetlandic as there are many similarities of sound and rhythm.
The English versions of these two poems were made by Olav Grinde, who lives in the US. Interestingly in ‘Welcome’ he shifted Ruste’s Byens terminal (the city terminal in Oslo) to Grand Central Station in New York. I used Kings Cross where a Scot coming off the London train can feel strangely foreign. The poem fell into Shetlandic reasonably effortlessly: some words like overstadig translate easily into Shetland’s owresteer (rather excessive behaviour) but perhaps the line spraglete utenlandsk og fremmed nå is the closest spricklit, ootadaeks fock, fae fram noo. Quite distinct from the English ‘foreign and strangely speckled’.
The coming of Spring is a frequent theme for poetry but Ruste’s ‘Robin’ is particularly apt and endearing. Some phrases like ‘perplexed polyphony’ and ‘pubertal’ have no direct Shetlandic equivalent so I had to take a tangential approach to get at the core of meaning (cabbilabbi and yallicrack are somewhat onomatapoeic; and the phrases filsket scriechin and slippit onkerry hopefully embody the rather gauche physicality of youth). By way of balance there are other words and phrases where the Shetlandic and Norwegian share a sound quality or rhythmic similarity, particularly the final line.
– Christine De Luca
