Happy Burns Night Day! Who's enjoying haggis, neeps, and tatties? I've been reading Robert Burns' poems and thinking of beautiful Scotland and its National Bard. Also known as Rabbie Burns, he was born to a farming family in Ayrshire, 1759. Surprisingly well-educated, he was a naturalist, anti-slavery, and a true romantic. He was also very proud of his country. He married Jean Armour in 1788. He wasn't always true to her, but they were married for the rest of his life. He was only 37 when he died in 1796. He was laid to rest in Dumfries, Scotland The first Burns Supper was in 1801, when some of his friends gathered together to remember the fifth anniversary of his death. Both poet and lyricist, he wrote in Broad Scots and Scottish English. Ye Flowery Banks (Bonie Doon)
(Original version) Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu' o' care! Thou'll break my heart, thou warbling bird, That wantons thro' the flowering thorn! Thou minds me o' departed joys, Departed never to return. Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon To see the rose and woodbine twine, And ilka bird sang o' its luve, And fondly sae did I o' mine. Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree! And my fause luver staw my rose -- But ah! he left the thorn wi' me. (Standard English translation) You banks and sides of bonny Doon, How can you bloom so fresh and fair? How can you chant, you little birds, And I so weary full of care! You will break my heart, you warbling bird, That flies through the flowering thorn! You remind me of departed joys, Departed never to return. Often have I roved by bonny Doon To see the rose and woodbine twine, And every bird sang of its love, And fondly so did I of mine. With lightsome heart I plucked a rose, Full sweet upon its thorny tree! And my false lover stole my rose - But ah! he left the thorn with me.
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A Little of This, a Little of ThatKeep me away from the wisdom that does not cry, the philosophy that does not laugh, and the greatness which does not bow before children. – Gibran Khalil Gibran Archives
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