Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ISAIAH: FIFTY-SECOND CHAPTER, by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ISAIAH: FIFTY-SECOND CHAPTER, by                    
First Line: Wauken, o wauken; on wi' yer might, o zioun! Cleed yo wi'
Last Line: Israel's god, he's ahint yo!
Subject(s): Religion; Scottish Translations; Theology


WAUKEN, O wauken; on wi' yer might, O Zioun! Cleed yo wi' yer braws,
Jerusalem, Halie town! for nae mair sal win hame till thee, the ill-snedden
tyke an' the loon.

2 Shake yersel weel frae the asse; up till yer dais sae heigh, Jerusalem! aff
wi' the branks frae yer hals, Dochtir o' Zioun in thirldom! (3) For JEHOVAH
himsel, quo' he: Ye war trokit awa' without fee; an' it's no wi' a siller plea,
ye'se come hame again.
4 For it's sae quo' JEHOVAH himself: My folk intil AEgyp lan', langsyne they
gaed down till bide, [an' war keepit thar:] an' sin-syne, the Assyrian han'
on their head's been an unco guide, till thring them sair:

5 What mair can I thole syne, 's JEHOVAH'S word; that my folk suld be stown
for nought? Wha ring owre hem, they mak them till dree, quo' the LORD; an' my
name, ilka day gangs for ought! (6) Syne sae sal my folk weel ken my name;
they sal ken i' that day, 'am the same God ay: I speak for mysel, an'
come hame.

7 How braw on the hills sae heigh himlane, 's the feet o' the rinner wi' news
till tell! wi' news it's a' lown, wi' word it's weel; wi' a sugh o' salvation
for ilka chiel; that cries till Zioun, That God o' yer ain, he's King
himsel!

8 Yer out-leukers syne, they sal lowse their tongue; they sal lowse their
tongue, an' sal lilt fu' fain: they sal glow'r thegither, een till een; whan the
LORD sal fesh hame again Zioun!

9 Blythe and break-out, lilt a' like ane, ye bourocks sae swak o' Jerusalem:
for the LORD he has hearten'd his folk fu' kin'; he has e'en bought back
Jerusalem.

10 The LORD he rax'd yont his halie arm, in sight o' the natiouns mony, O; an'
ilk neuk o' the yirth sal tak tent an' learn, the health o' our God sae bonie,
O!

11 Awa, awa, clean but frae the town; mak nor meddle wi' nought that's roun':
awa frae her bosom; haud ye soun', wi' the gear o' the LORD forenent yo!

12 For it's no wi' sic pingle, ye'se gang the gate; nor it's no wi' sic speed,
ye maun spang the spate: for the LORD, he's afore yo, ere an' late; an'
Israel's God, he's ahint yo!





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