#Halloween #Robert Burns poem

Happy Hallowe'en to you! 

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:J._M._Wright_-_Edward_Scriven_-_Robert_Burns_-_Halloween.JPG

Since beginning this blog, I've written each Halloween about different aspects of the Hallowe'en festival. Today, I'm harkening back to my teens when I studied some of Robert Burns poetry. I vaguely remember reading back then that Robert Burns' famous poem Tam O ' Shanter  (1790) wasn't his first attempt to portray the Eve of all Hallows. I studied Tam O' Shanter in depth for my O Grade, or maybe it was my Higher English Exam, and loved it but I didn't, at that time, read the earlier poem named Halloween.

In 1785, he wrote Halloween in 28 stanzas which gave an idea of what the folk of the parish just might be doing on the night of Halloween. It a great poem, though not in my opinion anything like as exciting as Tam O Shanter. Halloween is quite tricky to understand but I find reading it aloud helps me, even when the actual meaning is obscure because the poem refers to long lost agricultural practices. It's also one of his longer poems, so you need to have some time to absorb it!

BUT...this is where the internet is fabulous. There are a number of sites which do a great job of explaining Burn's poetry. I've copied the poem below from my own Collins (publisher) copy of the works of Robert Burns- the Souvenir Edition edited by James Barke- and have included his translations. But to give even clearer depth to the poem, and to add a huge amount to the translation of the poem, I suggest you click this link to read the Footnotes created by Burns himself. They're a fascinating read and a glimpse into the farming communities among whom he lived.
http://www.robertburns.org/works/74.shtml

My Robert Burns plate

Halloween by Robert Burns

1

Upon that night, when fairies light

  On Cassilis Downans dance,                         Earl of Cassilis estate

Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,                pastures

  On sprightly coursers prance;           

Or for Colean the rout is ta’en,                       road

  Beneath the moon’s pale beams;

There, up the cove, to stray and rove,

  Amang the rocks and streams

To sport that night;

2

Amang the bonie winding banks,

  Where Doon rins, wimplin, clear;                 winding

Where Bruce ance ruled the martial ranks,

  An’ shook his Carrick spear;

Some merry, friendly, country-folks

  Together did convene,

To burn their nits, an’ pou their stocks,          nuts; pull their plants

  An’ haud their Halloween

Fu’ blythe that night.                         

3

The lasses feat an’ cleanly neat,                      spruce

  Mair braw than when they’re fine;               fair

Their faces blythe fu’ sweetly kythe               show

  Hearts leal, an’ warm, an’ kin’:                     loyal; kind

The lads sae trig, wi’wooer-babs                    love-knots

  Weel-knotted on their garten;                       garters

Some unco blate, an’ some wi’gabs                shy; talk

  Gar lasses’ hearts gang startin                       make; beating

Whyles fast at night.               Sometimes

4

Then, first an’ foremost, thro’ the kail,

  Their stocks maun a’ be sought ance;

They steek their een, an’ grape an’ wale         shut their eyes; grope; choose

  For muckle anes, an’straught anes.               big; straight

Poor hav’rel Will fell aff the drift,                  foolish; lost the way

  An’ wandered thro’ the bow-kail,                cabbage

An’ pow’t, for want o’ better shift,                pulled; choice

  A runt, was like a sow-tail,                           stalk

Sae bow’t that night.              bent

5

Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane,         mouldy

  They roar and’ cry a’ throu’ther;                   pell-mell

The vera wee-things, toddling, rin                  children; run

  Wi’ stocks out-owre their shouther;              upon; shoulder

An’ gif the custock’s sweet or sour,               if; pith

  Wi’ joctelegs they taste them;                       pocket-knives

Syne cosily, aboon the door,                           above

  Wi’ cannie care, they’ve plac’d them,          prudent

To lie that night.

6

The lasses staw frae ‘mang them a’,               stole

  To pu their stalks o’ corn;

But Rab slips out, an’ jinks about,                  dodges

  Behint the muckle thorn:

He grippet Nelly hard an’ fast;

  Loud skirl’d a’ the lasses;                             squealed

But her tap-pickle maist was lost,

  Whan kiutlin in the fause-house                   cuddling

Wi’ him that night.

7

The auld guid-wife’s weel-hoordet nits          well-hoarded nuts

  Are round an’ round divided,

An’ monie lads’ an’ lasses’ fates

  Are there that night decided:

Some kindle couthie, side by side,                 cuddle comfortably

  An’ burn thegither trimly;

Some start awa wi’ saucy pride,

  An’ jump out-owre the chimlie                     fire-place

Fu’ high that night.

8

Jean slips in twa, wi’ tentie e’e;                      watchful

  Wha ‘twas she wadna tell;

But this is Jock, and this is me,

  She says in to herself:

He bleez’d owre her, an’ she owre him,         whispered

As they wad never mair part;

Till Fuff! he started up the lum,                      chimney

  And Jean had e’en a sair heart

To see that night.

9

Poor Willie, wi’ his bow-kail runt,

  Was burnt wi’ primsie Mallie;                       precise Moll

An’ Mary, nae doubt, took the drunt,                        huff

  To be compar’d to Willie:

Mall’s nit lap out, wi pridefu’ fling,               nut; leapt;

  An’ her ain fit, it burnt it;                             foot

While Willie lap, an’ swoor by jing,

  ‘Twas just they way he wanted

To be that night.

10

Nell had the fause-house in her min’,

  She pits hersel an’ rob in;

In loving bleeze they sweetly join,

  Till white in ase they’re sobbin:                    ashes

Nell’s heart was dancing at the view;

  She whisper’d Rob to leuk for’t:

Rob, stownlins, prie’d her bonie mou,            by stealth; tasted; mouth

  Fu’ cozie in the neuk for’t,                           corner

Unseen that night.

11

But Merran sat behint their backs,                  Marian

  Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;

She lea’es them gashing at their cracks,          gabbing

  An’ slips out by herself:

She thro’ the yard the nearest taks,

  An’ to the kiln she goes then,

An’ darklins grapit for the bauks,                   In the dark; cross beams

  And in the blue-clue throws then,

Right fear’t that night.

12

An’ ay she win’t, an’ ay she swat—               wound; sweated  

  I wat she made nae joukin;                           bet; trifling

Till something held within the pat,

  Guid Lord! but she was quaking!

But whether ‘twas the Deil himsel,

  Or whether ‘twas a bauk-en’,                       beam-end

Or whether it was Andrew Bell,

  She did na wait on talkin                 

To spier that night.                  ask

13

Wee Jenny to her graunie says,

  ‘Will ye go wi’ me, graunie?

I’ll eat the apple at the glass,

  I gat frae uncle Johnie’:

She fuff’t her pipe wi’ sic a lunt,                    puffed; smoke

  In wrath she was sae vap’rin,

She notic’d na an aizle brunt                          cinder burnt

  Her braw, new, worset apron                        worsted

Out thro’ that night.

14

‘Ye little skelpie-limmer’s-face!

  I daur ye try sic sportin,

As seek the Foul Thief onie place,                  Devil

  For him to spae your fortune:                       tell

Nae doubt but ye may get a sight!

  Great cause ye hae to fear it;

For minie a ane has gotten a fright,

  An’ liv’d an’ died deleeret,                          mad, delirious

On sic a night.

15

‘Ae hairst afore the Sherra- moor,                  harvest; Sherrifmuir

  I mind’t as weel’s yestreen—                       remember

I was a gilpey then, I’m sure                           young girl

  I was na past fyfteen:

The simmer had been cauld an’ wat,

  An’ stuff was unco green;                            grain; very

An’ ay a rantin kirn we gat,                            rollicking; harvest home

An’ just on Halloween

It fell that night.

16

‘Our stibble-rig was Rab M’Graen,                chief harvester

  A clever, sturdy fallow;

His sin gat Eppie Sim wi’ wean,                     pregnant

  That lived in Achmachalla:

He gat hemp-seed, I mind it weel,

  An’ he made unco light’ o’t;

But monie a day was by himsel,                     out of his wits

  He was sae sairly frighted

That vera night.’

17

Then up gat fechtin Jamie Fleck,                    fighting

  An’ he swoor by his conscience,

That he could saw hemp-seed a peck;                        sow

  For it was a’ but nonsense:                           all nonesense

The auld guidman raught down the pock,      reached; bag

  An’ out an handfu’ gied him;

Syne bad him slip frae ‘mang the folk,

  Sometime when nae ane see’d him,

An’ try’t that night.

18

He marches thro’ amang the stacks,

  Tho’ he was somethin sturtin;                       staggering

The graip he for a harrow taks,                       dungfork

And haurls at his curpin;                                 trails; crupper -harness strap

And ev’ry now and then he says,

  ‘Hemp-seed I saw thee,

An’ her that is to be my lass

  Come after me, an’draw thee

As fast this night.

19

He whistl’d up Lord Lenox’ March,

  To keep his courage cheery;

Altho’ his hair began to arch

  He was sae fley’d an’ eerie;                          scared; awe-stricken

Till presently he hears a squeak,

  An’ then a grane an’ gruntle;                        groan

He by his shouther gae a keek,                       looked over his shoulder

  An’ tumbl’d wi’ a wintle                              summersault

Out- owre that night.

20

He roar’d a horrid murder-shout,

  In dreadfu’ desperation!

An’ young an’ auld come rinnin out,

  An’ hear the sad narration:

He swoor ‘twas hilchin Jean M’Craw,            halting

  Or crouchie Merran Humphie—                   hunchbacked

Till stop! she trotted thro’ them a’;

  An’ wha was it but grunphie                                    the pig

Asteer that night?                   Astir

21

Meg fain was to the barn gaen,

  To winn three wechts o’ naeathing;              winnow

But for to meet the Deil her lane,                   alone

   She pat but little faith in:

She gies the herd a pickle nits,                        shepherd; a few; nuts

  An’ twa red-cheekit apples,

To watch, while for the barn she sets,

  In hopes to see Tam Kipples

That vera night.

22

She turns the key wi’ cannie thraw,                twist

  An’ owre the threshold ventures;

But first on Sawnie gies a ca’,

  Syne bauldly in she enters;

A ratton rattl’d up the wa’,                             rat

  An’ she cry’d, L-d preserve her!

An’ ran thro’ midden-hole an’ a’,

  An’ pray’d wi’ zeal and fervour

Fu’ fast that night.

23

They hoy’t out Will, wi’ sair advice;              urged

  They hecht him some fine braw ane;            promised

It chanc’d the stack he faddom’t thrice,                   

  Was timmer –propt for thrawin;                   against; bending

He taks a swirlie, auld moss-oak                     twisted

  For some black gruesome carlin;                   beldam –old wifie

An’ loot a winze, an’ drew a stroke,               cried out a curse; and made a hit

  Till skin in blypes cam haurlin                       shreds

Aff’s nieves that night.           Off his fists

24

A wanton widow Leezie was,

  As cantie as a kittlin;                                     lively; kitten

But och! That night, amang the shaws,          woods

  She gat a fearful’ settlin!

She thro’ the whins, an’ by the cairns,

  An owre the hill gaed scrievin;                     went careering

Whare three lairds’ lands met at a burn,         stream

  To dip her left sark-sleeve in

Was bent that night.

25

Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,              Now; the stream falls

  As thro’ the glen it wimpl’t;

Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays,             cliff

  Whyles in a wiel it dimpl’t;                           eddy

Whyles glitter’d to the nightly rays,

  Wi’ bickerin, dancing dazzle;

Whyles cookit underneath the braes,              hid

  Below the spreading hazel

Unseen that night.

26

Amang the brachens, on the brae,                   ferns

  Between her an’ the moon,

The Deil, or else an outler quey,                     Young cow out in the open

  Gat up an’ gae a croon;

Poor Leezie’s heart maist lap the hood;          leaped; sheath

  Near lav’rock-height she jumpit,

But mist a fit, an’ in the pool

  Out-owre the lugs she plumpit

Wi’ a plunge that night.

27

In order, on the clean hearth-stane,

  The luggies three are ranged;

And ev’ry time great care is taen

  To see them duly changed:

Auld uncle John, wha wedlock’s joys

  Sin Mar’s-year did desire,                             1715

Because he gat the toom dish thrice,              empty

  He heav’d them on the fire

In wrath that night.

28

Wi’ merry sangs, an’friendly cracks,

  I wat they did na’ weary;                             think

An unco tales, an’ funnie jokes—                   wondrous

  Their sports were cheap an’ cheery:

Till butter’d sow’ns, wi’ fragrant lunt,           steam

  Set a’ their gabs a- steerin;                            tongues; wagging

Syne, wi’ a social glass o’ strunt,                    liquor

  They parted aff careerin

Fu’ Blythe that night.

 Slàinthe!