Scotch Pine : The Scotch Pine in Poetry

"Dark Pine", Robert Service

"...Aye, when my soul shall sally forth

Let it be to the naked North,

And in a lone pine desolate

Achieve its fit and final fate;

A pine by artic tempest torn,

Snow-scourged, wind-savaged and forlorn;

A viking trunk, a warrior tree,

A hostage to dark destiny

Of iron earth and icy sky,

That valiantly disdains to die..."

 

 

"My Grandmother", Jackie Kay

"My grandmother is like a Scottish pine

tall, straight backed, proud and plentiful

a fine head of hair, greying now

Tied up in a loose bun

Her face is ploughed land

Her eyes shine rough as amethysts.

She wears a plaid shawl with the zeal of an Amazon

She is one of those women

burnt in her croft rather than moved off her land

She speaks Gaelic mostly,

English only

when she has to, then its blasphemy

...

My grandmother is a Scottish pine

Tall, straight-backed, proud and plentiful...."

 

 

In both of these poems, the overwhelming sense of respect that people hold for the Scotch pine is evident. It is seen as a powerful object, an imposing presence that is emblematic of the strong of heart. The first poem by Robert Service echoes the tradition of burying warriors under Scotch pines, and the second by Jackie Kay creates a sense of the power inherent in these pines. Interestingly, both of these poets are Scottish, which seems to speak to the deep and abiding respect that the Scottish people have for their national tree.