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  1. #1
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    Robert Burns Poetry

    I replied to a recent thread about Burns Night, it got me thinking about the poetry of Burns of which I am a great fan.
    I thought to ask members of the forum, what is their best poem from Burns?
    I know many will say Tam O' Shanter which is my favourite but it is hard to exclude his other poems.
    I would love to hear the reasons why you have a favourite poem, I think it would be a brilliant exercise finding the thoughts of our members on this subject

  2. #2
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    Having had to recite boh 'To a Haggis' and 'Tam', in FULL (4 sides of A4), I have to say that while I like them, they're not my favourites.

    OK its an honour to be asked to a Burns Supper to do this, but, boy does it take it out of you! int:

    So my actual favourite is 'To a Mouse', or possibly 'The Cotters on Saturday Night'.
    Martin.
    AKA - The Scouter in a Kilt.
    Proud, but homesick, son of Skye.
    Member of the Clan MacLeod Society (Scotland)

  3. #3
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    My favorite, although I must say there are literally hundreds and I haven't got through them all, is "Address to the toothache."

    I am a medic and as well as experiencing it myself, as we all probably have, I have treated toothache in others. In it's mild form, it is irritating at best. In it's extreme, it's the kind of pain that makes you want to gnash your own head off.

    I think Burns has captured it. The anguish and distress is sheer agony and bear in mind in his day and age there was no magic analgesia tablets to make it go away. And dentistry by door-knob would not be my idea of fun.

    Great Poet, great poetry, great poem. And who else but Robert Burns would consider such a title.

    Immense!

    ADDRESS TO THE TOOTHACHE.

    [“I had intended,” says Burns in writing to Creech, 30th May, 1789, “to have troubled you with a long letter, but at present the delightful sensation of an omnipotent toothache so engrosses all my inner man, as to put it out of my power even to write nonsense.” The poetic Address to the Toothache seems to belong to this period.]

    My curse upon thy venom’d stang,
    That shoots my tortur’d gums alang;
    And thro’ my lugs gies mony a twang,
    Wi’ gnawing vengeance;Tearing my nerves wi’ bitter pang,
    Like racking engines!

    When fevers burn, or ague freezes,
    Rheumatics gnaw, or cholic squeezes;
    Our neighbours’ sympathy may ease us,
    Wi’ pitying moan;But thee—thou hell o’ a’ diseases,
    Ay mocks our groan!

    Adown my beard the slavers trickle!
    I kick the wee stools o’er the mickle,
    As round the fire the giglets keckle, To see me loup;
    While, raving mad, I wish a heckle
    Were in their doup.

    O’ a’ the num’rous human dools,
    Ill har’sts, daft bargains, cutty-stools,
    Or worthy friends rak’d i’ the mools,
    Sad sight to see!The tricks o’ knaves, or fash o’ fools,
    Thou bears’t the gree.

    Where’er that place be priests ca’ hell,
    Whence a’ the tones o’ mis’ry yell,
    And ranked plagues their numbers tell,
    In dreadfu’ raw,Thou, Toothache, surely bear’st the bell
    Amang them a’!

    O thou grim mischief-making chiel,
    That gars the notes of discord squeel,
    ’Till daft mankind aft dance a reel
    In gore a shoe-thick!—Gie’ a’ the faes o’ Scotland’s weal
    A towmond’s Toothache.

  4. #4
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    To the Toothache
    Now that is painfully true!
    Martin.
    AKA - The Scouter in a Kilt.
    Proud, but homesick, son of Skye.
    Member of the Clan MacLeod Society (Scotland)

  5. #5
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    By the way.

    Worth mentioning again although it seemed to slip by the Forum last time I brought it up. Anyone who loves Burns will certainly appreciate the work of "Rab Wilson" A modern Scottish bard from Dumfries and Galloway (Burns Country) who writes in similar vein about contemporary issues. It's also superb stuff.

    Here is a link to the original thread containing tasters.

    Enjoy these AFTER you've told us what your favourite Burns poem is. [sorry Jimmy, didn't mean to hi-jack]

  6. #6
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    I have several although I do believe Tam O' Shanter is Burns's greatest masterpiece by any objective standard. However, my personal favourites speak to different emotions and moods. If I feel sentimental about my Scottish upbringing and for the values with which my parents raised me I look to 'The Cotter's Saturday Night'. If I feel irritated by the cant of some politician or public commentator then 'Holy Willie's Prayer' comes to mind. If hear some Jingo being glib and capricious about military intervention (which may or may not be morally justified) I find 'I murder hate' speaks to that:

    I murder hate by flood or field,
    Tho' glory's name may screen us;
    In wars at home I'll spend my blood -
    Life-giving wars of Venus.
    The deities that I adore
    Are social Peace and Plenty;
    I'm better pleased to make one more,
    Than be the death of twenty.
    Last edited by Peter Crowe; 7th August 11 at 04:24 PM.

  7. #7
    Phil is offline Membership Revoked for repeated rule violations.
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    One I had to learn at school and still remember to this day - Willie Wastle. The descriptions of poor Willie's wife are wonderful.

    1.
    Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed,
    The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie.
    Willie was a wabster guid
    Could stown a clue wi' onie bodie.
    He had a wife was dour and din,
    O, Tinkler Maidgeie was her mither!
    Sic a wife as Willie had,
    I wad na gie a button for her.
    2.
    She has an e'e (she has but ane),
    The cat has twa the very colour,
    Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump,
    A clapper-tongue wad deave a miller;
    A whiskin beard about her mou,
    Her nose and chin they threaten ither:
    Sic a wife as Willie had,
    I wad na gie a button for her.
    3.
    She's bow-hough'd, she's hem-shin'd,
    Ae limpin leg a hand-breed shorter;
    She's twisted right, she's twisted left,
    To balance fair in ilka quarter;
    She has a hump upon her breast,
    The twin o' that upon her shouther:
    Sic a wife as Willie had,
    I wad na gie a button for her.
    4.
    Auld baudrans by the ingle sits,
    And wi' her loof her face a-washin;
    But Willie's wife in nae sae trig,
    She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion;
    Her walie nieves like midden-creels,
    Her face wad fyle the Logan Water:
    Sic a wife as Willie had,
    I wad na gie a button for her.

    Here is an English translation -

    Willie Wastle dwelt on Tweed,
    The spot they called it Linkumdoddie.
    Willie was a weaver good
    Could stown a clew with any body. (a weaving term)
    He had a wife was sullen and dun (dark complexioned),
    O, Tinker Maidgeie was her mother!
    Such a wife as Willie had,
    I would not give a button for her.

    She has an eye (she has but one),
    The cat has two the same colour,
    Five rusty teeth, besides a stump,
    A (bell) clapper-tongue would deafen a miller;
    A whisker beard about her mouth,
    Her nose and chin they threaten each other:
    Such a wife as Willie had,
    I would not give a button for her.

    She is bow legged, she is hem-shin'd,
    One limping leg a hand-breadth shorter;
    She is twisted right, she is twisted left,
    To balance fair in each quarter;
    She has a hump upon her breast,
    The twin of that upon her shoulder:
    Such a wife as Willie had,
    I would not give a button for her.

    Old cats by the fireplace sits,
    And with her paw her face a-washing;
    But Willie's wife in not so neat,
    She wipes her face with a footless stocking;
    Her ample fists like manure baskets,
    Her face would foul the Logan Water:
    Such a wife as Willie had,
    I would not give a button for her.

  8. #8
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    Burns

    I only just found this part of the forum and I'm pretty excited about it!

    I read heaps of Burns when I was younger.My granda gave me an old book of Rabbies poems.O.k favourite.
    Similar to Gradatim Vincimus there is more than one but I do love WINTER:A DIRGE.
    Why? Well i'm a winter person.I love it.When I lived in scotland and winter came along,I thought,'now this is a real winter.Brilliant!'
    But deeper than that,when I was not quite 22 I got married.It did not last,but I really tried hard to make it,because I took my vow seriously.It was an unhappy time of my life for many reasons and the way Burns took the chill and windy howl of winter as a soul mate for his feelings of joylessness at that time just hit a cord with me back then.

    "The tempest's howl,it soothes the soul,
    My griefs it seems to join;"

    "Then all I want-O do Thou grant
    This one request of mine!-
    Since to ENJOY Thou dost deny,
    Assist me to RESIGN."

    Cheers for a brilliant thread Jimmy boy!

  9. #9
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    probably the most interesting part of this thread is the diversity of poetry and the way that our members are interpreting these poems as in Winter- A Dirge

  10. #10
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    The one poem that got me interested I heard on TV once. And I can't quite remember it, I think it had something to do with a Teetotaler being dragged by the Collar. It was an amazing play on words, if anyone can find it please post it.

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