Mr. Harpur,
I dinna hae the pleasure of makin ye're acquaintance while I wus alive.
But speak noo from the other side. Noo sure whether I'm residin in heav'n or hell an' I'm dead-sweer t' try and find oot.
I can no imagine the wilds o' ye're new land, but I think ye might be better off without the shackles o' the past and societies class distinctions that hae been sic a big a part o' ma life.
I myself hae gained guite a reputation o' bein a lassie's man, an' in trooth rightly sae. I'm send'n you a piece I wrote on ane of ma adventures. I hope ye enjoy this little escapade. Very few heard o' it, for I canna sae I would hae printed it while I wus alive.
Aye, but wha canna they do to me noo, but sully ma reputation further,
which I doubt is possible.
I hope ye enjoy it an' I'll be looking fer ye o' the other side!
sincerely
rabbie burns.
weel come gaither in yonder glen
fair a sinful tale Ah hae tae teel
sit yooself doon mah guid mukker
this woefully micht tak' a lang speel
yoo see, Ah enjoy th' brammer kimers
ain they seem tae pure loove me
they become sae sweit an' sassy
when they're sittin' upon mah knee
oh, i've sired mony wee ones
pretty much hud aw mah ain way
so mony daughters an' sons
way tay mony, some woods say
lately i've bin wonderin' whit
the brammer kimers hink ay me
because aam sic' a crafty scot
i devised a wheedlin' plan tae see
thaur waur a dizzen kimers in aw
as brammer as brammer coods be
i did nae ken Ah was headed fur a faa
when Ah gaily climbed 'at cabre
fair Ah hud gart a date tae gang meit
aa kimers at th' huir uv a sam time
i sat patiently waitin' fur them tae greit
happily whistlin' a contented rhyme
thaur Ah anxioosly waited
fur aw th' kimers tae arrife
each thinkin they woods be mated
tae be sae whieest, Ah did strive
weel they aw stared at each others secht
ain it was huir uv a plain tae see
that somethin' wisnae guite reit
ain they hud bin fooled by me
pretty suin it got huir uv a gantin
as th' kimers minced nae words
gain was their canty gang bubbly
replaced wi' words sharp as swords
yes, they cut me up an' spit me it
said things Ah wished eh'd ne'er heard
i wanted tae squeal an' shit
when they said, mah min' was disturbed
they called me a plooghman, dirt puir
a peasant, Ah hink was sometimes said
that mah personality was a wee bair
i woods nae be takin either tae mah scratcher
my skin was boilin hot
hair turned flamin' red
eyes burnin' intae a wee dot
i wished those kimers deid
they waur cacklin' an' havin a baa
but fellows, Ah teel ye aw thes
i did nae believe th' utter gaa
so mah erse Ah hoped they woods kiss
an gantin toad they shooted
the manners ay a stuck pig
renooned fur loove, they doobted
fur me they did nae caur a fig
woefully Ah hud suin hud enaw
ain gart mah presence knoon
in a voice 'at was stoaner an' gruff
my stoatin anger was finally shoon
tae their horrur an' surprise
i said these words tae them
"oh, yoo're aw tarred by th' a body brush"
"ain yoo're aw fucked by th' a body prick"
this shut them aw up, bonnie damn quick
naw th' kimers realized their aur
but Ah did nae offer comfort ur a smile
aa Ah did was sit an' glaur
cringin' at their denials
i finally jumped doon frae mah cabre top
ain brushed myself reit aff
wished them aw guid efternuin
ain wi' a smile, shyly scoffed
i turned tae swatch back jist a body time
ain Ah was surprised tae see
aa th' kimers in a line
tryin' tae catch up tae me
i took tae a runnin' huir uv a fest
laughin sae stoaner it lood
the kimers showed true colors at lest
naw they waur nane tae prood
it's true when they say ye ne'er hear guid
when ye eavesdrop tae whit fowk say
but mony a truth yoo'd learn shoods
yoo dae it in jist 'at way
oh, mah reputation will be lang stained
ain history will record lae
but ay th' kimers Ah remain
the a body fa cam it th' best!
Translation
***********
Well come gather in yonder glen
Fore a sinful tale I have to tell
Sit youself down my good friend
This woefully might take a long spell
You see, I enjoy the lovely ladies
And they seem to really love me
They become so sweet and sassy
When they're sitting upon my knee
Oh, I've sired many little ones
Pretty much had all my own way
So many daughters and sons
Way too many, some would say
Lately I've been wondering what
The lovely ladies think of me
Because I'm such a crafty Scot
I devised a wheedling plan to see
There were a dozen ladies in all
As lovely as lovely could be
I did not know I was headed for a fall
When I gaily climbed that tree
Fore I had made a date to go meet
All ladies at the very same time
I sat patiently waiting for them to greet
Happily whistling a contented rhyme
There I anxiously waited
For all the ladies to arrive
Each thinkin they would be mated
To be so quiet, I did strive
Well they all stared at each others sight
And it was very plain to see
That something was not guite right
And they had been fooled by me
Pretty soon it got very ugly
As the ladies minced no words
Gone was their happy go bubbly
Replaced with words sharp as swords
Yes, they cut me up and spit me out
Said things I wished I'd never heard
I wanted to squeal and shout
When they said, my mind was disturbed
They called me a ploughman, dirt poor
A peasant, I think was sometimes said
That my personality was a little bore
I would not be takin either to my bed
My skin was boilin hot
Hair turned flaming red
Eyes burning into a little dot
I wished those ladies dead
They were cackling and havin a ball
But fellows, I tell you all this
I did not believe the utter gall
So my arse I hoped they would kiss
An ugly toad they shouted
The manners of a stuck pig
Renouned for love, they doubted
For me they did not care a fig
Woefully I had soon had enough
And made my presence known
In a voice that was hard and gruff
My great anger was finally shown
To their horror and surprise
I said these words to them
"Oh, you're all tarred by the one brush"
"And you're all fucked by the one prick"
This shut them all up, pretty damn quick
Now the ladies realized their ere
But I did not offer comfort or a smile
All I did was sit and glare
Cringing at their denials
I finally jumped down from my tree top
And brushed myself right off
Wished them all good afternoon
And with a smile, shyly scoffed
I turned to look back just one time
And I was surprised to see
All the ladies in a line
Trying to catch up to me
I took to a running very fast
Laughin so hard out loud
The ladies showed true colors at last
Now they were none to proud
It's true when they say you never hear good
When you eavesdrop to what people say
But many a truth you'd learn should
You do it in just that way
Oh, my reputation will be long stained
And history will record the rest
But of the ladies I remain
The one who came out the best!
Author notes
My attempt at a Scottish Dialect - Burns Era.
The story comes from a tale my Scottish Grandmother would tell me as a child.
The letter portion is for a contest, where my poet Rabbie Burns deceased is writing to a living poet Harpur.
www.oldpoetry.com/opoem/2955
Written July 14th, 2006
In a list
A contest entry
- ENNYFING COLLOQUIAL by jimmy20johns.
1800 points, ended October 31, 2008, 13 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 30 of 30
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Och lassie, dae ye REALLY want me tae run through this wi' a fine-toothed comb, an' correct yer Scots leid?
Congratulations - you sailed close to the wind with this, but you carried off the little brown jug!
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Thanks I think, lol. Kinda a back-handed remark, of which it seems you did not enjoy the dialect, lol. Regardless thanks for the comment
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It's AWESOME.
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I have said thatI am unafraid of Frost, and undaunted by Poe. I have mentioned many others to my close circle that do not intimidate me. This is not out of arrogance but out of the sheer force of will. However, after reading "Killing Fields" and this peice I am prepared to park my pen. I cannot imagine anything except standing in your shadow. I do not know what you did to prepare yourself for this, but I did not need the translation. I have watched you grow and change only in the positive. I am so glad that I did not fall early to the web of the spider. The arachnid could not have produced these works. I think that I must take a second look at my writing and do a serious bit of soul searching. RC
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This is fun and I learned a few things too about the Scottish dialect of Burn's era that I didn't know before. I thought of entering this contest but didn't have time. You have certainly written one of the top poems for it.
Good luck in the contest!
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Excellent idea
are you writing in old english or middle english i a little rusty on it so i am glad you put in the translation it is a very good poem you have a great handle on language i truly enjoyed this write i love the old english it a fading out very good job thanks for sharing it with us to enjoy have a great day love b -
ohhhhhhhh snap hommie that was tight.That is a good poem. your a very good poem. that shit is tight. I like your poetry alot.This poem is really cool.yo you should check out my poems.well good poem.keep up the good work.Stay PIMPIN
~A-Dog~
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Very well done...Bravo...This was a very enjoyable piece to read. Thank you for sharing.
Soulful Woman -
Very different from what I am used to....humorous and clever!
Very well done! -
a totaly different form of poetry from you I've been gone and yet you amaze me still with your talent love the form and missed reading your poems I have aLOT of cacthing up to do...
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wow, i love this poem, if you look at my page, you'll see that this is my favorite poetry style...lol....great work.
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It's grand tae see a Rabbie fan
And one frae sic a far-flung lan'
Who writes in verse and maks it scan
Employing Doric
I'm certain Burns wid shak yer haun
And be euphoric
You ought to try this metric style
Which Burns made his for some small while
He maks you greet, he maks you smile
With rhyming pleasure
With verses filled with wit and guile
And skilful measure -
This was a good adaptation of my uncle. Robbie Burns is my some odd great uncle. One thing he didn't have as many children as you make it seem. At least not according to my family's record. I personally didn't think Robbie was such a great poet, I find most of his work quite boring in fact. I do love Red, Red Rose. I always enjoy reading what people write about my uncle. It brings me a little joy.
Thanks!
~*Destiny*~ -
I see you didn't find Burns too taxing in the end.
I love the sly dig of in -shackles of the past- to someone living in the world's largest open prison.
Also the duality of -erse- meaning both arse and the Gaelic language itself of which you used a variant.
A nice tale which could well have come for the mind of Burns, himself a one for very plain speaking in his more broad writing.
Truly a grand poem
Jim
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what an awesome write this is...thoroughly enjoyable
your presentation couldn't be more perfect. including the translation really helped me a lot
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I am impressed in no small measure. I could never have captured Burns so well or handled the old Scottish style of write. I am just blown away by that part. I enjoyed the poem and the humor you laced it nicely with. A large Bravo from me. Love, Tom B.
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he got the best of them in more ways than one.
Really a terrific job, cupcrazy.
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Brilliant, Cupcrazy! I burst right out laughing at "Oh, you're all tarred by the one brush
And you're all fucked by the one prick" A funny tale with a moral to boot thought he did indeed get the best of any of them...
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lovely
hmm that was a pretty good poem! I enjoyed reading it. Although it was a bit strange and a little hard to read...lol, I got the drift though!Awesome write! Good luck in the contest! -
Cupcrazy ... you are indeed a chameleon! You have such versatility and creativity that when combined with intellegence creates something as credible as this! Bravo for a job well done my friend.
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excellent
Very well expressed ..Yes Rabbie love the Lassies that along with writing was his passion. So sad he departed this world so young.. I hope we shall all meet him on the other side .A great man and poet.. Thank you for writing and sharing. -
Looks good honey bunny!
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LOL very orignal and cleverley done, must've taken you ages to do all that... definetley very good though, good luck in the contest x
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Hysterical! What a pip! Very funny indeed, hard to ,match for pure entertainment value that's for certain! Good job indeed!
Hugs!
dk -
magnificent poem and letter
Dear Robbie, me mate,
Strike me bloody pink, old digger, you have done a rip snorter of a job on this one. You humble me. You have done so well with your metre and rhyme as well as the dialect.
I felt as though you found me an important person to write to even though you have been dead these few years. Thank you for that comfort and support.
Congratulations on a challenge well met. -
This is a great piece- you've picked up the dialect and accent perfectly and still managed to maintain excellent rhyme and rhythm without losing purpose. Your theme too is well chosen, lol, and the introduction is brilliant. My one suggestion is that you include a translation of the poem, as in places it is difficult to understand, although the jist can still be got.
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The muse has gan awa I see. A feeling I know well. I hope Clio and Caliope call soon.
Jim -
This should be a fun one! Mine is up if you wanna check it out, let me know when you post I'll be back!
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Oh! That's my favorite poem of his. I love that. What are you supposed to do with it?
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This oughta be quite the challenge with his dialect... I know you're of Scottish descent so this will be fun. R S got some Aussie I see (over at OP, not here yet)and since he is one, there's something brewing, methinks.
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