Quote:
The Banks Of Bonnie DoonYe flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair!
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care!Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird
That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o' the happy days
When my fause Luve was true.Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird
That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
And wist na o' my fate.Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon
To see the woodbine twine,
And ilka bird sang o' its love;
And sae did I o' mine.Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Frae aff its thorny tree;
And my fause luver staw the rose,
But left the thorn wi' me.
Happy St. Andrew's!
1. By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond.
Where me and my true love were ever wont to gae
On the bonnie, bonnie banks O' Loch Lomond.
Refrain:
O ye'll tak' the high road and I'll tak' the low road,
An' I'll be in Scotland afore ye;
But me and my true love will never meet again
On the bonnie, bonnie banks O' Loch Lomond.
2. 'Twas there that we parted in yon shady glen,
On the steep, steep side O' Ben Lomon',
Where in purple hue the Hieland hills we view,
An' the moon comin' out in the gloamin'
Refrain:
3. The wee birdies sing and the wild flow'rs spring,
And in sunshine the waters are sleepin';
But the broken heart it kens nae second spring,
Tho' the waefu' may cease frae their greetin'.
Refrain
And could the memory of Robert Burns, soon to be celebrated again, this Jan. 25th, be better remembered than for "The Author's earnest cry and prayer, to the right honorable, the Scotch representatives in the House of Commons"
"Ye Irish lords, ye knights an' squires, Wha represent our Brughs and Shires, An' dousely manage our affairs in Parliament, To you a simple Bardie's pray'rs Are humbly sent.
Alas! my roupet Muse is haerse! Your Honor's hearts we' grief 'twad pierce, To see her sittan on her arse Low i' the dust, An' scriechan out prosaic verse, An' like to brust!
Tell them wha hae the chief direction, Scotland an' me's in great affliction, E'er sin' they laid that curst restriction On Aquavitae; An' rouse them up to strong conviction, An' move their pity."
After many more verses filled with pleas and veiled threats (made humorous to avoid a jail term or worse) against any governing body limiting the whisky supply, it ends:
"Scotland, my auld, respected Mither! Tho' whyles ye moistify your leather, Till whare ye sit, on craps o'heather, Ye tine your dam; Freedom and Whisky gang thegither, Tak aff your dram! "
I've found it fun to try to interpret whole lines of this one, from Robert Burns: Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect.
I wonder if the Vatican has given any thought to adding patronage of bondage fetishists to his duties? Scotland ain't that big, can it really be that demanding a job... should be plenty of time left over.
*waves to Maysie*
And what is that obscure - but I suspect shitty - little piece all about? Is there no place left on babble for a celebration of anything but the little warped egos that haunt its perimeters?
Robbie Burns would not have understood "bondage fetishists" ...given his prefernce for the real thing.
And why "wave to Maysie"? I don't expect intervention anymore. What a miserable repository of weirdness...and prejudice.
Don't let your Féileadh Mòr get all tangled up in a knot there George Victor, I almost always include a wave to Maysie when I decide to throw in a little observation that is apropos of, well, appropos of little at all. And really, I didn't mean to insult Robert Burns, my comment has a tangential relationship to the OP itself (which I missed the first time round). There is no need to be dour, even if we are (tangentially again) speaking about Caledonia.
Or, as was so delightfully put in the movie Trainspotting:
Whoa, George. Wtf?
Stop insulting me, George. This is not a suggestion.
Any chance of closing this thread until Nov 30? My Scottish blood is beginning to boil. Go Rangers!
winks at Catchfire.
Och? WTF?
*Waves at flotsom and clersal*
Happy Burns Day!
Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath day of 1879
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.
‘Twas about seven o’clock at night,
And the wind it blew with all its might,
And the rain came pouring down,
And the dark clouds seem’d to frown,
And the Demon of the air seem’d to say –
“I’ll blow down the Bridge of Tay.”
[Etc., etc.]
What's with this North American predeliction for wishing "Happy **** Day?"
Happy this, happy that. Have a happy day, or a nice one at least.
"Happy Hallowe'en," f'rinstnace, makes no sense to me. It's all about the dead and witches and decidedly unhappy things. "Happy Valentine's Day?" Well, I wish happiness on the martyred Valentinus, who had to be beheaded after clubs and rocks couldn't kill him. "Merry Rasputin Day," as the Orthodoxites say.
And the Scotch? Happy Robbie Burns Day. I'll nae be wishing ye any sooch thing.
Have a dour Burns Day, one and all.
George "WAVES" to the successful celebrants of Scottish verse on a day when old, dead, white is in , like Flynn:
"Still, thou art blest, compar'd wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast me e'e ,
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!
For, as Robbie might say in the idiom of our day...out there all is fatuous fuckup!
Happy Mental Heath Day
Happy Conversion of St. Paul Day!
Does the massive imbibing of distilled spirits precede or follow the consumption of entrails?
Yes.
Not on the world's calendars, Ken
World Mental Health Day, an international campaign for mental ...
World Mental Health Day is an international event which is annually held on 10th October.
But Burns had the remedy any time of year: "Gie him strong Drink until he wink, That' sinking in despair:"
You'll find it perks you right up!