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(BBC)   Address your inner haggis: It's Burns Night tonight   (bbc.co.uk) divider line 40
    More: Spiffy  
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4051 clicks; posted to Main » on 25 Jan 2004 at 5:07 PM (10 years ago)   |  Favorite    |   share:  Share on Twitter share via Email Share on Facebook   more»



40 Comments   (+0 »)
   

Archived thread
 
2004-01-25 02:22:05 PM
Some hae meat and canna eat,
and some wad eat that want it,
but we hae meat and we can eat,
and sae the Lord be thankit.
 
2004-01-25 03:45:08 PM
 
2004-01-25 05:11:06 PM
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!
 
2004-01-25 05:11:43 PM
Forget the haggis and poetry. I'll settle for carpet burns to celebrate Burns Night. Less painful.
 
CB
2004-01-25 05:12:55 PM
Gee, poetry that sounds like drunken rambling nonsense, from a Scottish fella. Who'da thought?

/Kidding, loves his poetry.
 
2004-01-25 05:14:10 PM
And may I be the first person called Burns to post on this here list this Fine Bonnie Evening, laddies!!!
 
2004-01-25 05:14:30 PM
 
2004-01-25 05:15:07 PM
What's five pounds to the bloody Midland Bank?

/obligatory python reference
 
2004-01-25 05:17:33 PM
Vegetarians should look out for the many variations of vegetarian haggis.


Veggie Haggis? That's sick...
 
2004-01-25 05:17:53 PM
That's Ewen McTiegal, not Burns
 
2004-01-25 05:23:17 PM
I was saying boo-erns.
 
2004-01-25 05:24:39 PM
Vegetarians should look out for the many variations of vegetarian haggis.

There are vegitables with intestines?
 
2004-01-25 05:27:55 PM
Due to a lack of planning, I find myself with no hagis to assist in marking this occasion.

As a substitute, I shall celebrate Burns' greatness with a bottle of Bowmore 10 year old Scotch Whisky.
 
2004-01-25 05:30:49 PM


Mmm. Oatmeal and meat combined.
 
2004-01-25 05:38:48 PM
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.

God bless you and keep you, Rabbie.
 
2004-01-25 05:44:39 PM
And so, it seems, the catterpillar has emerged from his cocoon as a shark. with a gun for a mouth.
 
2004-01-25 05:45:51 PM
 
2004-01-25 05:50:47 PM
Ah, Monty! Who else would wear a vest made of real gorilla chest, not to mention wearing a living brain on his head and exclaiming, "Look at me! I'm Davey Crockett!"?
 
2004-01-25 06:06:34 PM
TO A LOUSE
ON SEEING ONE ON A LADY'S BONNET AT
CHURCH


I
HA ! whare ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie ?
Your impudence protects you sairly,
I canna say but ye strunt rarely
Owre gauze and lace,
Tho' faith ! I fear ye dine but sparely
On sic a place.

II

Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner,
Detested, shunn'd by saunt an' sinner,
How daur ye set your fit upon her -
Sae fine a lady !
Gae somewhere else and seek your dinner
On some poor body.

III

Swith ! in some beggar's hauffet squattle:
There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle,
Wi' ither kindred, jumping cattle,
In shoals and nations;
Whare horn nor bane ne'er daur unsettle
Your thick plantations.

IV

Now haud yon there ! ye're out o' sight,
Below the fatt'rils, snug an' tight;
Na, faith ye yet ! ye 'll no be right,
Till ye 've got on it -
The vera tapmost, tow'ring height
O' Miss's bonnet.


V

My sooth ! right bauld ye set your nose out,
As plump an' grey as onie grozet:
O for some rank, mercurial rozet,
Or fell, red smeddum,
I 'd gie ye sic a hearty dose o't,
Wad dress your droddum.

VI

I wad na been surpris'd to spy
You on an auld wife's flainen toy;
Or aiblins some bit duddie boy,
On 's wyliecoat;
But Miss's fine Lunardi ! fye !
How daur ye do 't ?

VII

O Jenny, dinna toss your head,
An' set your beauties a' abread !
Ye little ken what cursed speed
The blastie 's makin !
Thae winks an' finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice takin !

VIII

O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us !
It wad frae monie a blunder free us
An' foolish notion:
What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,
An' ev'n devotion !


Here's tae ye, Rabbie (raises glass of 14-year-old Oban)
 
2004-01-25 06:08:24 PM
Happy Robbie Burns Day!

I'll be performing (err...playing bass) tonight at the Free Times Cafe, for those Torontonian farkers in the Chinatown area. Some bonnie folk tunes and some other songs thrown in for good measure
 
2004-01-25 06:17:22 PM
Och! Fuilear cail mi am deoch o' an scotch nochd!

/I don't really speak Gaelic, and I'm so sorry for butchering the language
 
2004-01-25 06:21:01 PM
The Song of Death-

Farewell, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies,
Now gay with the broad setting sun;
Farewell, loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties,
Our race of existence is run!
Thou grim King of Terrors; thou Life's gloomy foe!
Go, frighten the coward and slave;
Go, teach them to tremble, fell tyrant! but know
No terrors hast thou to the brave!

Thou strik'st the dull peasant-he sinks in the dark,
Nor saves e'en the wreck of a name;
Thou strik'st the young hero-a glorious mark;
He falls in the blaze of his fame!
In the field of proud honour-our swords in our hands,
Our King and our country to save;
While victory shines on Life's last ebbing sands, -
O! who would not die with the brave!
 
2004-01-25 06:26:04 PM
Aye. And here's a tour guide to our fair city.

look at the state ay ye
 
2004-01-25 06:49:59 PM
And here I was looking forward to tenting my fingers and saying "Excellent."
 
2004-01-25 06:55:13 PM
Burns love poems = gold dust.
 
2004-01-25 07:09:36 PM
to compliment Tillmaster's poem:

To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough



Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, 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,
Which 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 crashiathe 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 drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!
 
2004-01-25 07:44:00 PM
What an odd mascot...

 
2004-01-25 08:35:10 PM
Great job with the poems, lads. Honor the man who provided the titles to both Of Mice and Men and The Catcher in the Rye .
 
2004-01-25 08:38:38 PM
Nine Inch Will Please a Lady (Robert Burns)

Come rede me dame, come tell me dame,
My dame come tell me truly,
What length o' graith when weel ca'd hame
Will sair a woman duly?"
The carlin clew her wanton tail,
Her wanton tail sae ready, "l learn'd a sang in Annandale,
Nine inch will please a lady."

"But for a koontrie coont like mine,
In sooth we're not sae gentle;
We'll tak tway thumb-bread to the nine,
And that is a sonsy pintle.
Oh, Leeze me on, my Charlie lad,
I'll ne'er forget my Charlie,
Tway roaring handfuls and a daud
He nidged it in fu' rarely."

But wear fa' the laithron doup
And may it ne'er be thriving,
It's not the length that makes me loup
But it's the double drivin.
Come nidge me Tom, come nidge me Tom
Come nidge me, o'er the nyvel
Come lowse an lug your battering ram
And thrash him at my gyvel!
 
2004-01-25 08:41:01 PM
not exactly the most redily understood by modern ears, but i think you can get the jist, or jest, of it.
 
2004-01-25 10:10:16 PM
All hail Rab.
 
2004-01-25 11:24:37 PM
Our pub celebrated a traditional Burn's Night Supper just last night...
the other waitresses all bailed out and left me to be the one server.
I got into the leftover whiskey and tipsy laird after everyone left,
and drank to Burns into the wee hours.
The one time of year I get to see my boss wearing a kilt.
Happy Burns' Night, Everyone.
 
2004-01-25 11:38:53 PM
A Robbie Burns day gone by, and I was too poor to get a haggis. :(
 
2004-01-25 11:54:27 PM
I've got so much leftover haggis I filched from the pub..
will mail a portion to anyone bold enough to send their address.
Guiness not included, but advised.
 
2004-01-26 12:31:17 AM
Raises the glass of 18 old year Glenlivet. Happy Robert Burns day all. Hope yours was better than mine.
 
2004-01-26 12:34:04 AM
My Robert Burns Day is actually monday, seeing as I'm in Japan, and the whole universe appears to be yesterday !!! :-).

Haven't been to Scotland in almost two years now !! Time for another trip.
 
2004-01-26 03:56:14 AM
Someone tells someone else that they owe them money; someone tells someone else that they don't love them anymore; someone delivers punch to someone else; someone gets told by someone else that they're adopted. Yeah, mine went well.

Family + Alcohol = Disaster
 
2004-01-26 04:15:01 AM
I predict the Scottish hospitals will be overflowing with people suffering from severe Burns. Symptoms will include incoherent ranting, drowsiness, loss of balance, and in severe cases vomiting.

Robbie Burns to the English
Rabbie Burns to the Scottish
Rabbi Burns to the Jewish
/Izzard
 
2004-01-26 09:36:10 AM
My favourite Burns poem...

Johnie Lad, Cock Up Your Beaver

When first my brave Johnie lad came to this town,
He had a blue bonnet that wanted the crown;
But now he has gotten a hat and a feather,
Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver!

Cock up your beaver, and cock it fu' sprush,
We'll over the border, and gie them a brush;
There's somebody there we'll teach better behaviour,
Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver!
 
2004-01-26 02:50:15 PM
'Lend us a quid till the end of the week'
by Ewen McTeagle

Lend us a quid till the end of the week.
If you could see your way
To lending me sixpence
I could at least buy a newspaper.
That's not much to ask anyone.
 
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