World Class Poetry Blog

Scottish Poet Robert Burns Gets His Own Celebration
23 January 2008, the poet @ 5:47 pm

The Scots are going to have fun this weekend celebrating Burns Night.

While U.S. citizens get off work to sit in rush hour traffic for two hours to spend three hours chugging $3 beer during Happy Hour then heading home to dally with the neighbors’ wife while he dilly’s with theirs, the Scots will be celebrating the life and poetry of poet Robert Burns. And to think that we could have our very own Walt Whitman Day!

According to the Daily Record, people from all over the world will celebrate the holiday. I don’t know a single American who celebrates Burns Night, unless they’re a member of the local Arsonist’s Club.

I guess technically we do have our own version of Burns Night. It’s called New Year’s Eve. We revel, we pat a prat, we lift balloons into the air and ride on floats for hours waving at total strangers in hopes that they may wave back and show us their hooters. Some of them do. Some of them don’t. Either way, we get drunk and still live with ourselves in the morning. We never remember the words of Auld Lang Syne but we sing it with the same fervor that we sing our National Anthem, and half of us can’t remember those words either.

Robert Burns was born in Ayrshire, Scotland on January 25, 1759. Known as the official national poet of Scotland, Burns is one of the early pioneers of the Romantic movement in literature. While he may not have been a “pure Romantic,” later Romantic poets such as Samuel Taylor Coleridge (one of my favorites), William Wordsworth, and Percy Bysshe Shelley derived their influence from Burns. Besides “Auld Lang Syne,” Burns wrote “A Red, Red Rose,” a popular favorite. The lyrics to “A Red, Red Rose” follow:

O my luve is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;

O my luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonny lass,
So deep in luve am I;

And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;

I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only love,
And fare thee weel, awhile!

And I will come again, my love
Though it were ten thousand mile.

If you have trouble muttering through the Scottish of the Middle English era, here are the words in modern vernacular:

O my love is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;

O my love’s like the melody
That’s sweetly played in tune.

As fair you are, my bonny lass,
So deep in love am I;

And I will love you still, my dear,
Till all the seas go dry.

Till all the seas go dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt with the sun;

I will love you still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run.

And fare you well, my only love,
And fare you well, awhile!

And I will come again, my love
Though it were ten thousand mile.

If you aren’t doing anything else this Friday night, celebrate Robert Burns Night with the Scots, no matter where you are.

2 Comments a “Scottish Poet Robert Burns Gets His Own Celebration”

1. Jim Murdoch — January 24, 2008 @ 1:59 am
   

   It’s not as big a thing here as you might imagine. In fact, I’ve never been to a Burns Supper in my life and I was a grown man before I tasted haggis. I’ve also never worn a kilt and can’t stand whiskey. Go figure.

   I did win a prize for a project on Burns when I was about nine but school sickened me off him. The Scots make far more fuss about New Year’s Eve (or Hogmanay as we tend to call it); it’s not such a big thing in England though.

2. Private McPhee — January 25, 2008 @ 4:09 pm
   

   I attended my first Burns Night last Saturday evening in Emmitsburg, Maryland. As it was a fundraising event all I can say is the parts that weren’t like a schoolboard meeting were rather enjoyable. The haggis was marvelous, and the piper talented. I think there’s a Scottish Renaissance brewing in the churlish “Scottish Diaspora.” Since next year marks Rabbie’s 250th, I think there will be a few more eyes on Burns night.

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