Happy Yorkshire Day

On the day that the Yorkshire Dales Park extends into Lancashire, and the Lake District National Park extends so that the borders of the two parks come within spitting distance of one another, what better way of celebrating than by sharing a poem by Cumbrian poet Norman Nicholson written in a Yorkshire dialect.

Nobbut God

First on, there was nobbut God, – Genesis 1, v 1., Yorkshire Dialect Translation.



First on

There was silence.

And God said:

‘Let there be clatter.’


The wind, unclenching,

Runs its thumbs

Along dry bristles of Yorkshire Fog.


The mountain ousel

Oboes its one note.


After rain

Water lobelia

Drips like a tap

On the tarn’s tight surface-tension.


But louder,

And every second nearer,

Like chain explosions

From furthest nebulae

Light-yearing across space:

The thudding of my own blood.


‘It’s nobbut me,’

Says God


Norman Nicholson



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