Another hero passes

Edwin Morgan, snatched away prematurely at only 90. 

If you don't recognise the name, he was the leading Scottish poet of his generation. Which sounds a little churlish: he was one of the best poets of the last century,  though his focus on Scotland meant that a lot of people dismissed him as a 'regional' poet. 

Hear him read some of his work here (the excellent Poetry Archive site).

Here are 'Strawberries', 'The Loch Ness Monster's Song' and the Idlewild song 'In Remote Part/Scottish Fiction', which features Morgan reading 'Scottish Fiction', the poem he wrote for them.

STRAWBERRIES

There were never strawberries like the ones we had that sultry afternoon sitting on the step of the open french window facing each other your knees held in mine the blue plates in our laps the strawberries glistening in the hot sunlight we dipped them in sugar looking at each other not hurrying the feast for one to come the empty plates laid on the stone together with the two forks crossed and I bent towards you sweet in that air in my arms abandoned like a child from your eager mouth the taste of strawberries in my memory lean back again let me love you let the sun beat on our forgetfulness one hour of all the heat intense and summer lightning on the Kilpatrick hills let the storm wash the plates

The Loch Ness Monster's Song

Sssnnnwhuffffll?
Hnwhuffl hhnnwfl hnfl hfl?
Gdroblboblhobngbl gbl gl g g g g glbgl.
Drublhaflablhaflubhafgabhaflhafl fl fl –
gm grawwwww grf grawf awfgm graw gm.
Hovoplodok – doplodovok – plovodokot-doplodokosh?
Splgraw fok fok splgrafhatchgabrlgabrl fok splfok!
Zgra kra gka fok!
Grof grawff gahf?
Gombl mbl bl –
blm plm,
blm plm,
blm plm,
blp.

Scottish Fiction

It isn't in the mirror It isn't on the page It's a red-hearted vibration Pushing through the walls Of dark imagination Finding no equation There's a Red Road rage But it's not road rage It's asylum seekers engulfed by a grudge Scottish friction Scottish fiction It isn't in the castle It isn't in the mist It's a calling of the waters As they break to show The new Black Death With reactors aglow Do you think your security Can keep you in purity You will not shake us off above or below Scottish friction Scottish fiction