Transcript ROBERT BURNS The Scottish Legend

ROBERT
BURNS
The Scottish Legend
Robert Burns (25 January
1759 – 21 July 1796) (also
Rabbie Burns, Scotland's
favourite son, the Ploughman
Poet, the Bard of Ayrshire and
in Scotland as simply The Bard)
was a poet and a lyricist. He is
regarded as the national poet of
Scotland, and is celebrated
worldwide. He is the bestknown of the poets who have
written in the Scots language,
although much of his writing is
also in English and a 'light'
Scots dialect, accessible to an
audience beyond Scotland.
Robert Burns was born two miles south of Ayr, in Alloway,
South Ayrshire, Scotland, the eldest of the seven children of
William Burness (1721 - 1784) (Robert Burns spelled his
surname Burness until 1786), a self-educated farmer and
Agnes Broun (1732 – 1820)
He was born in a house built by his father (now the
Burns Cottage Museum), where he lived until
Easter 1766 when he was seven years old. Then
the father sold this house and the family moved
to Alloway.
Young Robert had little regular schooling, and got much of
his education from his father, who taught his children
reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, and history. After
a few years of home education Burns was sent to
Dalrymple Parish School during the summer of 1772.
At the age of 17 Burns writes his first poems:
O, Once I Lov'd A Bonie Lass…
and
Now Westlin' Winds and I Dream'd I Lay.
In April 1786, at the
suggestion of his
brother, Robert
Burns published his
poems in the volume
Poems,
Chiefly in the Scottish
Dialect
known as the
Kilmarnock volume
The success of the
book was great and
soon he was known
across the country.
He was invited to Edinburgh in 1787. There he was
received as an equal by the city's brilliant men and
was a guest at aristocratic gatherings.
Here he encountered, and made a lasting
impression on Walter Scott, who described him
later with great admiration:
“His person was strong and robust; his manners
rustic, not clownish, a sort of dignified plainness
and simplicity which received part of its effect
perhaps from knowledge of his extraordinary
talents. His features are presented in Mr
Nasmyth's picture but to me it conveys the idea
that they are diminished, as if seen in perspective.
I think his countenance was more massive than it
looks in any of the portraits ... there was a strong
expression of shrewdness in all his lineaments;
the eye alone, I think, indicated the poetical
character and temperament. It was large, and of a
dark cast, and literally glowed when he spoke with
feeling or interest. I never saw such another eye
in a human head, though I have seen the most
distinguished men of my time.„
Walter Scott
The second edition of "Poems", published by William
Creech in 1787, brought him some slight financial
security.
In these Years Burns also got married (to Jean
Armour)
Burns concentrated on songwriting, making
substantial contributions to James Johnson's Scots
Musical Museum, including "Auld Lang Syne" (1788)
and "A Red, Red Rose".
Much of Robert Burns's poetry, like Tam O' Shanter (1791),
was written humourously about his own situations and
experiences. This humour stands the test of time and it is as
funny today as when it was written more than 200 years ago at
a time when living conditions were extremely harsh for the
majority of the population.
A Poet's Welcome To His LoveBegotten Daughter
PoemThou's welcome, wean; mishanter
fa' me,
If thoughts o' thee, or yet thy mamie,
Shall ever daunton me or awe me,
My bonie lady,
Or if I blush when thou shalt ca' me
Tyta or daddie.
Tho' now they ca' me fornicator,
An' tease my name in kintry clatter,
The mair they talk, I'm kent the better,
E'en let them clash;
An auld wife's tongue's a feckless
matter
To gie ane fash.
Welcome! my bonie, sweet, wee
dochter,
Tho' ye come here a wee unsought for,
And tho' your comin' I hae fought for,
Baith kirk and queir;
Yet, by my faith, ye're no unwrought for,
That I shall swear!
Wee image o' my bonie Betty,
As fatherly I kiss and daut thee,
As dear, and near my heart I set thee
Wi' as gude will
As a' the priests had seen me get thee
That's out o' hell.
Sweet fruit o' mony a merry dint,
My funny toil is now a' tint,
Sin' thou came to the warl' asklent,
Which fools may scoff at;
In my last plack thy part's be in't
The better ha'f o't.
Tho' I should be the waur bestead,
Thou's be as braw and bienly clad,
And thy young years as nicely bred
Wi' education,
As ony brat o' wedlock's bed,
In a' thy station.
AULD LANG SYNE
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!
And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,
And surely I'll be mine,
And we'll tak a cup o kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!
We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine,
But we've wander'd monie a weary fit,
Sin auld lang syne.
We twa hae paidl'd in the burn
Frae morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin auld lang syne.
And there's a hand my trusty fiere,
And gie's a hand o thine,
And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught,
For auld lang syne
The translations of
Burns’ poems were
made by many
people, but the most
successful and lively
of them are those by
S. Marshak
SCOTLAND: THE MOTHER
OF ROBERT BURNS