Happy Burns Day

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If you’ve never read Rabbie Burns before, here’s a taster.

If you don’t know who he was, then you can glean a little information here:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Burns

The Soldier’s Return

When wild war’s deadly blast was blawn,

And gentle peace returning,

Wi’ mony a sweet babe fatherless,

And mony a widow mourning;

I left the lines and tented field,

Where lang I’d been a lodger,

My humble knapsack a’ my wealth,

A poor and honest sodger.

 

A leal, light heart was in my breast,

My hand unstain’d wi’ plunder;

And for fair Scotia hame again,

I cheery on did wander:

I thought upon the banks o’ Coil,

I thought upon my Nancy,

I thought upon the witching smile

That caught my youthful fancy.

 

At length I reach’d the bonie glen,

Where early life I sported;

I pass’d the mill and trysting thorn,

Where Nancy aft I courted:

Wha spied I but my ain dear maid,

Down by her mother’s dwelling!

And turn’d me round to hide the flood

That in my een was swelling.

 

Wi’ alter’d voice, quoth I, “Sweet lass,

Sweet as yon hawthorn’s blossom,

O! happy, happy may he be,

That’s dearest to thy bosom:

My purse is light, I’ve far to gang,

And fain would be thy lodger;

I’ve serv’d my king and country lang-

Take pity on a sodger.”

 

Sae wistfully she gaz’d on me,

And lovelier was than ever;

Quo’ she, “A sodger ance I lo’ed,

Forget him shall I never:

Our humble cot, and hamely fare,

Ye freely shall partake it;

That gallant badge-the dear cockade,

Ye’re welcome for the sake o’t.”

 

She gaz’d-she redden’d like a rose –

Syne pale like only lily;

She sank within my arms, and cried,

“Art thou my ain dear Willie?”

“By him who made yon sun and sky!

By whom true love’s regarded,

I am the man; and thus may still

True lovers be rewarded.

 

“The wars are o’er, and I’m come hame,

And find thee still true-hearted;

Tho’ poor in gear, we’re rich in love,

And mair we’se ne’er be parted.”

Quo’ she, “My grandsire left me gowd,

A mailen plenish’d fairly;

And come, my faithfu’ sodger lad,

Thou’rt welcome to it dearly!”

 

For gold the merchant ploughs the main,

The farmer ploughs the manor;

But glory is the sodger’s prize,

The sodger’s wealth is honor:

The brave poor sodger ne’er despise,

Nor count him as a stranger;

Remember he’s his country’s stay,

In day and hour of danger.

 

 

#RobertBurns #BurnsDay

Authentically Kenyan? — Safari Camp Life

This lady deserves a special place in the world of WordPress.

Do go and look at her blog. Laughter guaranteed, or your money back!

Sometimes some guests are so desperate for their trip to Kenya to be authentically African they lose all sense of perspective. Pointing at the bow and arrow hanging on the canvas wall; “Is that African?” At the hand-stitched, oversized leather-and-bead ceremonial necklace; “…and that?” Closely examining the stretched hide shield and rusted spears; “…what about this?” […]

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