Burns Night

sapper756 · January 24, 2011

A HAPPY BURNS NIGHT TO ALL THE SCOTTISH PB MEMBERS

http://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gif

http://graphics.stanford.edu/~bjohanso/england/glasgow/haggis.jpg

sapper756 · January 24, 2011

Address To A Haggis http://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifFair 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 o' 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.

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!

Then, horn for horn,

they stretch an' strive:

Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,

Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve,

Are bent lyke drums;

Then 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 spew

Wi' perfect sconner,

Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view

On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him ower 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 mak 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!

The Translationhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/002.gifFair is your honest happy face

Great chieftain of the pudding race

Above them all you take your place

Stomach, tripe or guts

Well are you worthy of a grace

As long as my arm

The groaning platter there you fill

Your buttocks like a distant hill

Your skewer would help to repair a mill

In time of need

While through your pores the juices emerge

Like amber beads

His knife having seen hard labour wipes

And cuts you up with great skill

Digging into your gushing insides bright

Like any ditch

And then oh what a glorious sight

Warm steaming, rich

Then spoon for spoon

They stretch and strive

Devil take the last man, on they drive

Until all their well swollen bellies

Are bent like drums

Then, the old gent most likely to rift (burp)

Be thanked, mumbles

Is there that over his French Ragout

Or olio that would sicken a pig

Or fricassee would make her vomit

With perfect disgust

Looks down with a sneering scornful opinion

On such a dinner

Poor devil, see him over his trash

As week as a withered rush (reed)

His spindle-shank a good whiplash

His clenched fist.the size of a nut.

Through a bloody flood and battle field to dash

Oh how unfit

But take note of the strong haggis fed Scot

The trembling earth resounds his tread

Clasped in his large fist a blade

He'll make it whistle

And legs and arms and heads he will cut off

Like the tops of thistles

You powers who make mankind your care

And dish them out their meals

Old Scotland wants no watery food

That splashes in dishes

But if you wish her grateful prayer

Give her a haggis!

sapper756 · January 25, 2011

A HAPPY BURNS NIGHT TO ALL THE SCOTTISH PB MEMBERS

http://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gif

http://graphics.stanford.edu/~bjohanso/england/glasgow/haggis.jpg

http://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gif

THE FIFER · January 25, 2011

we are having haggis tatties and neep tomorrow, :pidge: :crying:

Roland · January 25, 2011

Burns night. Is this like our 'Bonfire night'? :emoticon-0126-nerd:

Or is it a yearly thing where the Scots get all their rubbish outside and burn the whole lot once a year :huh: u

lanarkshire lad · January 25, 2011

The older i get the more i appreciate the guys works,he was an absolute genius with words.I dont think we witnessed the best of him as he was only 37 when he died. :scotland:

sapper756 · January 25, 2011

we are having haggis tatties and neep tomorrow, :crying:

mmmmmmmmmmmhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/emoticon-0137-clapping.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://forum.pigeonbasics.org/public/style_emoticons/default/scotland.gifhttp://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/00/15/6f/b6/haggis-with-neeps-and.jpg

glenrandal · January 25, 2011

Address To A Haggis 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 o' 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.

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!

Then, horn for horn,
they stretch an' strive:
Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve,
Are bent lyke drums;
Then 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 spew
Wi' perfect sconner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him ower 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 mak 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!

The TranslationFair is your honest happy face
Great chieftain of the pudding race
Above them all you take your place
Stomach, tripe or guts
Well are you worthy of a grace
As long as my arm

The groaning platter there you fill
Your buttocks like a distant hill
Your skewer would help to repair a mill
In time of need
While through your pores the juices emerge
Like amber beads

His knife having seen hard labour wipes
And cuts you up with great skill
Digging into your gushing insides bright
Like any ditch
And then oh what a glorious sight
Warm steaming, rich

Then spoon for spoon
They stretch and strive
Devil take the last man, on they drive
Until all their well swollen bellies
Are bent like drums
Then, the old gent most likely to rift (burp)
Be thanked, mumbles

Is there that over his French Ragout
Or olio that would sicken a pig
Or fricassee would make her vomit
With perfect disgust
Looks down with a sneering scornful opinion
On such a dinner

Poor devil, see him over his trash
As week as a withered rush (reed)
His spindle-shank a good whiplash
His clenched fist.the size of a nut.
Through a bloody flood and battle field to dash
Oh how unfit

But take note of the strong haggis fed Scot
The trembling earth resounds his tread
Clasped in his large fist a blade
He'll make it whistle
And legs and arms and heads he will cut off
Like the tops of thistles

You powers who make mankind your care
And dish them out their meals
Old Scotland wants no watery food
That splashes in dishes
But if you wish her grateful prayer
Give her a haggis!