burns night

happy burns day. today is the 250th anniversary of the birth of robert burns and i'm feeling a wee bit homesick for scotland. as a kid i grew up on irish and scottish songs and poems. in my house we had irish rebel songs and we celebrated burns suppers on 25th january. strange brew but not that unusual in glasgow.

we had burns celebrations at school and also in local community centres and, one that was always really good fun, the communist party HQ. burns was the darlin o the commies. especially "a mans a man for a that" we'd have that read and sung.

Then let us pray that come it may
[As come it will for a' that],
That Sense and Worth o'er a' the earth,
Shall bear the gree an a' that.
For a' that, an a' that,
It's comin yet for a' that,
That man to man, the world, o'er
Shall brithers be for a' that.

there's a ritual element to a burns supper. certain features that are always there. first the pipes (live if possible but not necessarily!), then someone dramatically reads the address to the haggis

"His knife see rustic Labour dight / an cut you up wi ready sleight, / Trenching your gushing entrails bright / Like ony ditch; / And then, O what a glorious sight, / Warm-reekin', rich!"

yuck, but anyway. then after the haggis had been addressed and attacked someone (often my da) would do the "immortal memory" which is a wee talk on burns's life and significance for today. the commies especially revelled in this and frankly would go on and on. i can only imagine some of that this year what with the collapse of global capitalism (!)

"Had i to guid advice but harkit, / I might, by this, hae led a market, / Or strutted in a bank and clarkit / My cash-account. / While here, half-mad, half-fed, half sarket / Is a' th' amount."

i think that's partly why his memory lasts so strongly. he's a poet whose work can be read and revelled in by the modern world. i think he'd have been thrilled to see obama elected and much in the inauguration speech and, especially, the benediction given by rev joseph e lowery would have resonated with burns' view of the world and cry for solidarity.
and there's the address to the ladies, the response from a lady - well whatever - and then songs, poems, dancing.

one of my favourite burns poems is "tae a moose(that's mouse)" here's the whole text

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 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 drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

he wrote this when he turned her nest up with his plough.

so, especially to scots the world over reading this

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,
Naething could resist my Nancy:
But to see her was to love her;
Love but her, and love for ever.
Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met-or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare-thee-weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, Enjoyment, Love and Pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae fareweeli alas, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.