Model Boat Mayhem
Mess Deck: General Section => Chit-Chat => Topic started by: kmmbcwebmaster on January 25, 2014, 06:34:36 pm
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Just to wish all our scottish friends a happy burns night
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To A Haggis
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o' need,
While thro' your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.
His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An' cut ye up wi' ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!
Then, horn for horn, they strech an' strive:
Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve,
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
'Bethankit!' hums.
Is there that owre his French ragout
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi' perfect sconner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Thro' bluidy flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll make it whissle;
An' legs, an' arms, an' heads will sned,
Like taps o' thrissle.
Ye Pow'rs wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o 'fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!
Robert Burns
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C8l2m3_2Xjg
And my oun personal favourite
To A Mouse
Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee
Wi' murd'ring pattle!
I'm truly sorry man's dominion,
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
What makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!
I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!
Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell -
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.
That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!
But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me;
The present only toucheth thee:
But och! I backward cast my e'e,
On prospects dreaer!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!
Robert Burns
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" Would some power the gift give us, to see ourselves as other see us. It would from many foolish notions free us , and even devotions." (English translation)
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Not to mention a more related bit for this forum ''Cutty Sark''
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" Would some power the gift give us, to see ourselves as other see us. It would from many foolish notions free us , and even devotions." (English translation)
Hi, I believe, well this is what I have been told that Burns wrote this when standing behind a posh wife in the Kirk and watching the Lice crawling in her hair. Lang may your Lum reek. Nemesis
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That is correct, the title of the poem is ; "To A Louse, On seeing One on a Lady`s Bonnet at Church"
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I've heard an enormous amount of twaddle from drunken Customs & Excise officers in my time, but that guy sure had style. I bet he didn't drink Carling........
DM
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Style AND class :-)) It would be a wee drap o` the crataur mibbe followed wae reamin` swats that drank devinely. ( see Tam `o Shanter) Nae imports even smuggled.
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Hi Dave, Just the Water of Life. nemesis
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Crataur= creature, a living thing. Whisky. O0
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"Reamin' swats"?? Please don't say it means what I think it does............... :o
DM
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Frothing/overflowing jugs of beer ....you dirty minded something or other >:-o
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Frothing/overflowing jugs of beer ....you dirty minded something or other >:-o
Only in my own native tongue. I'm as pure and innocent as the driven snow in all other languages and dialects, except where there's an apparent overlap. I'm sure you can appreciate my confusion in this case, and thanks for the translation.
Good luck for your independence - I'm now totally convinced that you deserve it.
DM
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You think we should drop the border to about the East Midlands then O0
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Nah - far too b****y close for my liking. Hartlepool will just about trap my mad step-daughter in your wild Caledonian clutches. Beware - she bites.
DM
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. Beware - she bites.
DM
sounds interesting %% %% %% %% :embarrassed: :embarrassed: :embarrassed: :embarrassed: :embarrassed: