A Burns Night Poem
Zhenya and I wrote this poem for Burns Night. If you've never read any of Robert Burns's poetry, this probably won't make any sense to you whatsoever.:)
My thought now turns
To old Robbie Burns,
That craftsman of Scotch ballad.
Who wrote a song,
So sweet and so long,
About a louse-clad bonnet.
Who charged a stream
‘Disturb not her dream,
My sleeping Highland Mary!’
Who wrote an ode
To the entrails stowed
Inside a wondrous haggis.
We weep and wail
At the tragic tale
Of the mare who then had none,
And shake in fear
As we all draw near,
To hear of Tam, her rider,
Whose tipsy state
Caused him to relate
A scene of midnight terror.
Brave marching tunes
That the Scotch dragoons
Would strike up with goodly cheer,
And tavern rhymes
That so many times
Were repeated merrily.
And what care we
Of the quality,
When writ in a good Scotch brogue?
So here we see
The epitome
Of a glorious poet!
My thought now turns
To old Robbie Burns,
That craftsman of Scotch ballad.
Who wrote a song,
So sweet and so long,
About a louse-clad bonnet.
Who charged a stream
‘Disturb not her dream,
My sleeping Highland Mary!’
Who wrote an ode
To the entrails stowed
Inside a wondrous haggis.
We weep and wail
At the tragic tale
Of the mare who then had none,
And shake in fear
As we all draw near,
To hear of Tam, her rider,
Whose tipsy state
Caused him to relate
A scene of midnight terror.
Brave marching tunes
That the Scotch dragoons
Would strike up with goodly cheer,
And tavern rhymes
That so many times
Were repeated merrily.
And what care we
Of the quality,
When writ in a good Scotch brogue?
So here we see
The epitome
Of a glorious poet!
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