Monday, 25 January 2010

Robert Burns 25 January 1759




No Scottish blogger or lover of Burns could allow the birthday of the Bard to go unnoticed so the following is my contribution to his memory. My grandparents were keen readers of Burns and gave us a life-long interest in his works. This poem always intrigued me as a child perhaps because, out of boredom, I too used to pass the time looking up the text of the sermon.

Epigram to Miss Ainslie in Church who was looking up the text during the sermon.

Fair maid, you need not take the hint,
Nor idle texts pursue:
'Twas guilty sinners that he meant,
Not Angels such as you.


One of my favourite Scottish singers and a favourite Burns song.

19 comments:

Stewart Cowan said...

Hi Rosie,

I like this song too. I looked at this very video while searching for my own tribute, but plumped for Scots Wha Hae.

Now, bring on the haggis!

subrosa said...

It's a very difficult choice Stewart. So much more available online than a few years ago.

Expect you saw some of the 'home mades' in your searches. A few had me doubled with laughter last night. Great entertainment.

Witterings From Witney said...

Have a good one SR! By the way do you want anything to 'Burn'? England could supply a few hundred fossilised MPs to 'light your fire' - lets face it they aren't much use for anything else!

Stewart Cowan said...

Actually, I started doing another 'Real Street Variety Performance' last night. Sometimes it's quite difficult getting quality versions of what you're looking for or if it's a film or TV clip, getting just the bit you want.

Then I remembered it was Burns Night, so I went hunting for that instead. I wanted something by the Corries, but never mind. Maybe next year, God willing.

scunnert said...

Love the song Subrosa but you should know that Burn's didn't actually write that one. It was a fragment he collected and restored.

scunnert said...

Original Text

John Anderson, my jo, John,
I wonder what ye mean,
To lie sae lang i' the mornin',
And sit sae late at e'en?
Ye'll bleer a' your een', John,
And why do ye so?
Come sooner to your bed at e'en,
John Anderson, my jo.

John Anderson, my jo, John,
When first that ye began,
Ye had as good a tail?trees,
As ony ither man;
But now its waxen wan', John,
And wrinkles to and fro;
I've twa gae?ups for ae gae?down,
John Anderson, my jo.

I'm backit' like a salmon,
I'm breastit like a swan;
My wameit is a down?cod
My middle ye may span:
Frae my tap?knot'° to my tae, John,
I'm like the new-fa'n snow;
And it's a' for your convenience,
John Anderson, my jo.

O it is a fine thing
To keep out o'er the dyke ;
But it's a meikle finer thing,
To see your hurdies fyke;
To see your hurdies fyke, John,
And hit the rising blow;
It's then I like your chanter-pipe,
John Anderson, my jo.

When ye come on before, John,
See that ye do your best;
When ye begin to haud me,
See that ye grip me fast;
See that ye grip me fast, John,
Until that I cry `Oh!'
Your back shall crack or I do that,
John Anderson, my jo.

John Anderson, my jo, John,
Ye're welcome when ye please;
It's either in the warm bed
Or else aboon the claes:
Or ye shall hae the horns, John,
Upon your head to grow;
An' that's the cuckold's malison,
John Anderson, my jo.

subrosa said...

I'll possibly manage to burn the potatoes and/or turnip WfW. Prefer that to over-fatted meat. ;)

subrosa said...

Auch Stewart you've 364 days to get something organised now. :)

subrosa said...

Jings scunnert, I never knew that. I've just hunted out the music for it, published in 1942, and it states it's written by Burns on that.

Was one of my granny's favourite songs and I used to play the piano while she sang. She'd be horrified to know she'd not been singing one of his compositions.

The words are beautiful and the music haunting although I think I prefer the modern arrangement.

scunnert said...

http://www.springthyme.co.uk/songtexts/JohnAndersonMyJo.html

subrosa said...

Ma granny's book didnae hae the bawdy version scunnert. :)

Thanks for the link. Super info.

Clarinda said...

Dearie me - am I really that old!
Off to mash the neeps and nurse my wrath. Sylvander will be home soon.

subrosa said...

Aye it's a hard fecht Clarinda. I forgot the neeps and can't find any around, so carrots are on the boil right now in the hope that they will taste similar if not superior. (Butter and sugar may help).

Dick Puddlecote said...

If he hadn't written in Jock gibberish, I'd have been a big fan.

Auld lang syne was OK, s'pose. ;-)

Stewart Cowan said...

I'm not that organised, Rosie. I need a couple of years' notice. At least. I've still to file my tax online. Got a whole six days left. I know we did our annual stocktaking, but can I find the paperwork?

subrosa said...

So yer nae linguist then Dick? :)

subrosa said...

Oh Stewart and I thought I was disorganised! Mine has been done for days so I'm feeling much better knowing someone like yourself is way behind. :)

Dick Puddlecote said...

Would it sully your blog if I said I was cunning? :-0

subrosa said...

You could never sully this blog Dick. It's sprayed down with DDT every night you know. :)

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