Burns Night Toasts

Happy Birthday to Robert Burns, Scotland’s National Poet.  Many of us have heard the

Address to a Haggis, but how much did you understand?  Our own, Robert Reid put his translation together, we hope you will enjoy it along with a few other poems to complete your celebrations!

ADDRESS TO A HAGGIS

Fair and full is your honest, jolly face
Great chieftain of the puddin race
Above them all you take your place
Above stomach, tripe or intestine
You’re well worthy of a grace
As long as my arm

The overloaded serving tray, you fill
You are piled up high like a distant hill
Your hardy form could be used to fix a mill
In time o’need
While through your pours, your juices do drip
Like liquid gold!

After sharpening up his serving knife bright
& cut you up with the greatest of skill
Slicing you open, your juicy innards do spill
Like a well dug ditch
And there O what a glorious sight!
Warm, reekin & rich!

Then spoonful after spoonful, they eagerly devour
The devil will not be left a scrap!
They eat & eat & eat & eat
Until all their bellies are fully stretched
Like the tightly strung skin of a snare drum
Then exclaims the Guildsman, who’s about to burst
Thank Ye Lord!

Is there a soul who would rather a French ragout
Or a Spanish dish that would make a sow sick
Or a French white stew that would make the same sow spew!
He would look down with a sneering, scornful eye on a dish of haggis

Poor devil! See him over his pitiful bowl of slop
His body thin like a withered rush
His skinny legs, would make a good riding crop
His wee hand can only clench a flee
He cannot cross a flooded stream, or field
What Man could be so unfit!

But see the healthy Haggis fed Lad
The earth trembles under his step
Put a sword into his hand
He’ll make it whistle!
And legs & arm & heads with fall
Like the tops off the thistle

Your nutrients that you give mankind & keep us fed & full of health
Auld Scotland wishes no watery, wimpy eats
That splashes about in wee wooden bowls
But if you wish to give her grace
GIVE HER HAGGIS!

—TO THE HAGGIS!!

You can check out the original poem by Burns by following this link: Original – Address to a Haggis

And one for after your supper!

Oh sleekit horrible beestie,lurks in yer belly after the feastie
As ye sit doon wae yer kin,there starts to stir an enormous yin,
the neeps and tatties an mushy peas,stert working like a gentle breeze,
But soon the puddin wae the sonsie face,will hae ye blowin awe ower the place.
Hawd yer bum tight tae the chair,tae try and stop the leaking air
shift yerself fae cheek tae cheek,and pray tae god it disnae reek.
But awe yer efforts gan a asunder,oot it comes like a clap o thunder
ricochets aroon the room,michty me a sonic boom,
WIS HIM! i shout with accusin glower,alas to late!hes just keeled ower
Ye dirty bugger they shout and stare,a dinny feel welcome anymare.
Where e’re ye be,let yer wind gan free,sounds like just the job for me.
Oh what a fuss at rabbies party.a ower the sake o wan wee farty.