In the Style of Robert Burns: Ode to a Scottish Writer

In the Style of Robert Burns:

She’s as gone as dust, brotherRobert Burns Style, Draft April 2014
If ye’ bother, man,
You’ll find her favor,
A’ changin’ wi’ another, brother-
She’s as gone as dust, man.
Try nae gither ashes,
Nor rake em’,
Try nae tell ya, man,
It’s all burnt up,
Not a page remains, brother-
Put air in yer’ hand and close it,
Don’t peak,
I’ll tell ya’, man,
It’s not there
You never had it brother-
Take it frae a jilted lover,
tae try for ‘nother, man.

Robert Burns Portrait

Robert Burns Portrait

Robert Burns was a famed Scottish writer and poet who lived during the mid till late 18th century. He was noted for catching the sympathies and feelings of the nation through his colloquial Scottish brogue and emotionally connected prose that struck a chord with his fellow kin. His poetry is considered romantic and ranged in themes from historical, pastoral and ballad like. Many pieces included mournful odes to women and squandered fortune- but a balladeer he was.  Here is an excerpt from a favorite ballad named, Whistle which is a summons of famous figures to a heroic drinking contest:
Unmatch’d at the bottle,
unconquer’d in war,
He drank his poor god-ship as deep as the sea…
Roberts life was one marked for misfortune and poor health but through his brilliance of mind his writing lives on.

Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor, thro’ life I’m doom’d to wander, O, Till down my weary bones I lay in everlasting slumber, O: No view nor care, but shun whate’er might breed me pain or sorrow, O; I live to-day as well’s I may, regardless of to-morrow, O.
My Father was a Farmer, Robert Burns

Read, Whistle and others @ Burns Country

Watch this great BBC documentary on Robert Burns:

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In the Style of Robert Burns: Ode to a Scottish Writer

In the Style of Robert Burns:

She’s as gone as dust, brotherRobert Burns Style, Draft April 2014
If ye’ bother, man,
You’ll find her favor,
A’ changin’ wi’ another, brother-
She’s as gone as dust, man.
Try nae gither ashes,
Nor rake em’,
Try nae tell ya, man,
It’s all burnt up,
Not a page remains, brother-
Put air in yer’ hand and close it,
Don’t peak,
I’ll tell ya’, man,
It’s not there
You never had it brother-
Take it frae a jilted lover,
tae try for ‘nother, man.

Robert Burns Portrait

Robert Burns Portrait

Robert Burns was a famed Scottish writer and poet who lived during the mid till late 18th century. He was noted for catching the sympathies and feelings of the nation through his colloquial Scottish brogue and emotionally connected prose that struck a chord with his fellow kin. His poetry is considered romantic and ranged in themes from historical, pastoral and ballad like. Many pieces included mournful odes to women and squandered fortune- but a balladeer he was.  Here is an excerpt from a favorite ballad named, Whistle which is a summons of famous figures to a heroic drinking contest:
Unmatch’d at the bottle,
unconquer’d in war,
He drank his poor god-ship as deep as the sea…
Roberts life was one marked for misfortune and poor health but through his brilliance of mind his writing lives on.

Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor, thro’ life I’m doom’d to wander, O, Till down my weary bones I lay in everlasting slumber, O: No view nor care, but shun whate’er might breed me pain or sorrow, O; I live to-day as well’s I may, regardless of to-morrow, O.
My Father was a Farmer, Robert Burns

Read, Whistle and others @ Burns Country

Watch this great BBC documentary on Robert Burns:

Dunbar, Scotland- A Gem!

I booked a pleasant 29 British Pound, “Sail and Rail” deal from the Belfast harbour, courtesy of the Stena Ferry group. I wanted to see the highlands and isles of Scotland but it just seemed an impossibility due to my time crunch- I went directly to Edinburgh in the southeast part of the country. Travelers, check for major events or regional holidays in the area you will be visiting as it will cause major inconveniences if you are caught unaware. I myself was blindsided.
Upon arrival, I walked and walked through Edinburghs gothic streets and hills, alleys, and paths to find neither vacancy nor accomodation; neither ramshackle nor Ritz could provide a bed. The entire city was slammed and booked due to a marathon being held in the city. It was also a bankers holiday which in itself, flooded the city with tourists. I was almost out of luck but realized I had in my pack, a room in itself- my tent that is. The day was growing into night and I made a decision to head out to the country for an evening among the wild heather in the East Lothian hills.

Among the wild Heather. Photo courtesy of Louise Phillips, Crime Novelist.

I was aboard the train and figured myself resigned to a night in the rough when two friendly ladies from the region invited me for drinks at their local pub, West Barns Inn. I agreed!
Well the night passed quickly with a game of darts, pool a few rounds of whisky Cokes and a few cans of the Scotish lager, Tennents. I was invited to spend an evening in a guest room at one of their homes in the small village of Innerwick. What a great coastal view!
The next morning she toured me around her village of Innerwick. Now, this is what I was after, a town with a population of more less 500, the open country, a view of the sea and a castle (also a power plant, but no bother- seriously, it adds more than detracts!) Authenticity! Here are some of photos of the region:

What I really wanted to draw attention to was this incredible monument tucked away on an obscure country road. First I want to say that, religion aside, to have this in a town says volumes about the community itself. I will write the engraving out:

A man of kindness,
To his beast is kind,
But brutal actions,
Show a brutal mind,
Remember!
He who made thee,
Made thee brute,
Who gave thee speech and reason,
Formed him mute,
He can’t complain,
But god’s all seing eye,
Beholds thy cruelty,
And hears his cry,
He was not designed thy servant,
Not thy drudge,
Remember his creator,
Is thy judge.

Myserious Monument near Dunbar

Just the other day, I mentioned a man by the name of Luke Kelly of the Dubliners. Part of the reason why I chose the town of Dunbar was because of his rendition of Robert Burns’ poem, Tibby Dunbar. I wanted to see if there was any correlation- there was none that I could find. But, please listen to the beauty of an Irish balladeers timbre of voice and the power of Burns’ romance. This is the taste of Scotland that he was perhaps imagining. 

Here is a video of the blue sky of summer and the blooming yellows of rape seed that seem to stretch on to the the quaint coastal town; the road, winding, leading right up to the legendary harbour that sports the remains of the Dunbar Castle: