The Stones of Scotland

It requires great love of it deeply to read
The configuration of a land,
Gradually grow conscious of fine shadings,
Of great meanings in slight symbols,
Hear at last the great voice that speaks softly,
See the swell and fall upon the flank
Of a statue carved out in a whole country’s marble,
Be like Spring, like a hand in a window
Moving New and Old things carefully to and fro,
Moving a fraction of flower here,
Placing an inch of air there,
And without breaking anything.
So I have gathered unto myself
All the loose ends of Scotland,
And by naming them and accepting them,
Loving them and identifying myself with them,
Attempt to express the whole.


Hugh Macdiarmid


The poem is called "Scotland" and these are "The Stones of Scotland". And that's the Scottish Parliament in the background. And a Scottish jogger in the foreground. I'm not Scottish though. For that matter, I can't be certain that she is either.