For those in troubled times, a poem by Robert Burns

[eppur_se_muova]

I'm "between contracts" so not in a position to offer more substantial help. Burns' poem is a classic reflection on the vicissitudes of life, even as seen from another's perspective. The last stanza reflects Burns' own financial troubles at the time (IIRC), he having lost virtually all his money in a speculative scheme entered into with friends, and dodging creditors.

To a Mouse, On turning her up in her nest with the plough, November 1785


Oh, tiny timorous forlorn beast,
Oh why the panic in your breast ?
You need not dart away in haste
To some corn-rick
I'd never run and chase thee,
With murdering stick.

I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken nature's social union,
And justifies that ill opinion
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor earth-born companion,
And fellow mortal.

I do not doubt you have to thieve;
What then? Poor beastie you must live;
One ear of corn that's scarcely missed
Is small enough:
I'll share with you all this year's grist,
Without rebuff.

Thy wee bit housie too in ruin,
Its fragile walls the winds have strewn,
And you've nothing new to build a new one,
Of grasses green;
And bleak December winds ensuing,
Both cold and keen.

You saw the fields laid bare and waste,
And weary winter coming fast,
And cosy there beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash; the cruel ploughman crushed
Thy little cell.

Your wee bit heap of leaves and stubble,
Had cost thee many a weary nibble.
Now you're turned out for all thy trouble
Of house and home
To bear the winter's sleety drizzle,
And hoar frost cold.

But, mousie, thou art not alane,
In proving foresight may be in vain,
The best laid schemes of mice and men,
Go oft astray,
And leave us nought but grief and pain,
To rend our day.

Still thou art blessed, compared with me!
The present only touches thee,
But, oh, I backward cast my eye
On prospects drear,
And forward, though I cannot see,
I guess and fear.

from http://www.robertburns.org/inenglish/extracts.shtml#toamouse

For the Scots original and side-by-side 'standard' English translation, see http://www.worldburnsclub.com/poems/translations/554.htm

In the mhe most-quoted lines, the Scots 'agley' is variously rendered in English as askew, awry, astray, etc., so you may be familiar with various quoted versions (and of course the title of a Steinbeck novel).

I try to use the phrase 'gang aft agley' occasionally in conversation.

[grasswire]

1. a lovely and erudite post, thanks

:wave:

[Swede]

2. I've always liked this poem.

Thanks.

[CaliforniaPeggy]

3. My dear eppur_se_muova...

This is lovely!

I had not ever seen the whole poem, I believe...

Thank you!

:hug:

[eppur_se_muova]

7. My Dear Peggy! :^)

Glad you liked it. I remember reading this back in junior high ... English was far from my favorite class, but I benefited from it anyway -- just didn't realize it until years later.

[leftyclimber]

4. I like "agley" better than "astray"

Ugly. The best laid plans of mice and man gang (go) oft agley (ugly).

The best laid plans of mice and man go oft ugly.

Ugly. Astray.

I think "ugly/agley" has much more nuance.

[PassingFair]

5. The original is SO much better!

Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty
Wi bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murdering pattle.

Burns is my all time favorite poet.

I had my husband's wedding ring inscribed...

"Til a the seas gang dry..."

This poem always makes me tear up:

Highland Mary

by Robert Burns
(1759-1796)
Ye banks and braes and streams around
The castle o' Montgomery,
Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie!
There simmer first unfauld her robes,
And there the langest tarry;
For there I took the last fareweel
O' my sweet Highland Mary.

How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk,
How rich the hawthorn's blossom,
As underneath their fragrant shade
I clasped her to my bosom!
The golden hours on angel wings
Flew o'er me and my dearie;
For dear to me as light and life
Was my sweet Highland Mary.

Wi' mony a vow and locked embrace
Our parting was fu' tender;
And, pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursels asunder;
But, O, fell Death's untimely frost,
That nipt my flower sae early!
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay,
That wraps my Highland Mary!

O pale, pale now, those rosy lips
I aft hae kissed sae fondly;
And closed for aye the sparkling glance
That dwelt on me sae kindly;
And mouldering now in silent dust
That heart that lo'ed me dearly!
But still within my bosom's core
Shall live my Highland Mary.

[eppur_se_muova]

6. D'oh! And here I assumed the Lounge wouldn't go for something in Scots ...

x(

(Prairie Home Companion fans can even imagine hearing this poem in Jean Redpath's voice! She's recorded Burns' songs, but not his poems, AFAIK)

[PassingFair]

9. Here's a treat...get out your handkerchiefs:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_gqctUZ4Oc&feature=related

[IcyPeas]

8. here's a link to Rabbie Burns actually reading it

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABiIUhOgBlA



;-)

[eppur_se_muova]

10. Amazing what technology can do. :^D nt

[sammythecat]

11. Touching