Bilingual Blog - Robert Burns' Night

Robert Burn's Night (Jan 25th)

ADDRESS TO A HAGGIS

This poem was written by Burns to celebrate his appreciation of the Haggis. As a result Burns and Haggis have been forever linked.

This particular poem is always the first item on the program of Burn's suppers. The haggis is generally carried in on a silver salver at the start of the proceedings.

As it is brought to the table a piper plays a suitable, rousing accompaniment.

One of the invited artistes then recites the poem before the theatrical cutting of the haggis with the ceremonial knife.

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 worthy o' a graceAs lang's my arm.The groaning trencher there ye fill,Your hurdies like a distant hill,Your pin wad help to mend a millIn time o need,While thro your pores the dews distilLike amber bead.His knife see rustic Labour dight,An cut you up wi ready slight,Trenching your gushing entrails bright,Like onie ditch;And then, O what a glorious sight,Warm-reekin, rich!Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyveAre bent like drums;The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,'Bethankit' hums.Is there that owre his French ragout,Or olio that wad staw a sow,Or fricassee wad mak her spewWi perfect scunner,Looks down wi sneering, scornfu viewOn sic a dinner?Poor devil! see him owre his trash,As feckless as a wither'd rash,His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,His nieve a nit;Thro bloody flood or field to dash,O how unfit!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 wareThat jaups in luggies:But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,Gie her a Haggis

Auld lang syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,and never brought to mind?Should auld acquaintance be forgot,and auld lang syne?For auld lang syne, my jo,for auld lang syne,we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,for auld lang syne.And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp!and surely I’ll be mine!And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,for auld lang syne.We twa hae run about the braes,and pu’d the gowans fine;But we’ve wander’d mony a weary foot,sin auld lang syne.We twa hae paidl’d i' the burn,frae morning sun till dine;But seas between us braid hae roar’dsin auld lang syne.And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere!and gie's a hand o’ thine!And we’ll tak a right gude-willy waught,for auld lang syne.For auld lang syne, my jo,for auld lang syne,we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,for auld lang syne.And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp!and surely I’ll be mine!And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,for auld lang syne.

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