TRANSLATIONS OF SCOTTISH POETS

These are my modern English translations of poems by the Scottish poets William Dunbar, Robert Burns, William Soutar and Hugh MacDiarmid.

Ballad
by William Soutar
translation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

O, surely you have seen my love
Down where the waters wind:
He walks like one who fears no man
And yet his eyes are kind!

O, surely you have seen my love
At the turning of the tide:
For then he gathers in his nets
Down by the waterside!

Yes, lassie we have seen your love
At the turning of the tide:
For he was with the fisher folk
Down by the waterside.

The fisher folk worked at their trade
No far from Walnut Grove:
They gathered in their dripping nets
And found your one true love!



The Watergaw
by Hugh MacDiarmid
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

One wet forenight in the sheep-shearing season
I saw the uncanniest thing—
a watergaw with its wavering light
shining beyond the wild downpour of rain
and I thought of the last wild look that you gave
when you knew you were destined for the grave.

There was no light in the skylark's nest
that night—no—nor any in mine;
but now often I've thought of that foolish light
and of these irrational hearts of men
and I think that, perhaps, at last I ken
what your look meant then.



Sweet Rose of Virtue
by William Dunbar
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness,
delightful lily of youthful wantonness,
richest in bounty and in beauty clear
and in every virtue men hold most dear―
except only that you are merciless.

Into your garden, today, I followed you;
there I saw flowers of freshest hue,
both white and red, delightful to see,
and wholesome herbs, waving resplendently―
yet nowhere one leaf nor petal of rue.

I fear that March with his last arctic blast
has slain my fair rose and left her downcast,
whose piteous death does my heart such pain
that I long to plant love's root again―
so comforting her bowering leaves have been.

If the tenth line seems confusing, it helps to know that rue symbolizes pity and also has medicinal uses; thus I believe the unrequiting lover is being accused of a lack of compassion and perhaps of withholding her healing attentions. The penultimate line can be taken as a rather naughty double entendre, but I will leave that interpretation up to the reader! 'Sweet Rose of Virtue' has been described as a 'lovely, elegant poem in the amour courtois tradition' or courtly love tradition. According to Tom Scott, author of 'Dunbar: A Critical Exposition of the Poems, ' this poem is 'Dunbar's most perfect lyric, and one of the supreme lyrics in Scots and English.' William Dunbar [c.1460-1530] has been called the Poet Laureate of the court of King James IV of Scotland.



Lament for the Makaris [Makers, or Poets]
by William Dunbar
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

i who enjoyed good health and gladness
am overwhelmed now by life's terrible sickness
and enfeebled with infirmity...
how the fear of Death dismays me!

our presence here is mere vainglory;
the false world is but transitory;
the flesh is frail; the Fiend runs free...
how the fear of Death dismays me!

the state of man is changeable:
now sound, now sick, now blithe, now dull,
now manic, now devoid of glee...
how the fear of Death dismays me!

no state on earth stands here securely;
as the wild wind shakes the willow tree,
so wavers this world's vanity...
how the fear of Death dismays me!

Death leads the knights into the field
(unarmored under helm and shield)
sole Victor of each red mêlée...
how the fear of Death dismays me!

that strange, despotic Beast
tears from its mother's breast
the babe, full of benignity...
how the fear of Death dismays me!

He takes the champion of the hour,
the captain of the highest tower,
the beautiful damsel in her tower...
how the fear of Death dismays me!

He spares no lord for his elegance,
nor clerk for his intelligence;
His dreadful stroke no man can flee...
how the fear of Death dismays me!

artist, magician, scientist,
orator, debater, theologist,
must all conclude, so too, as we:
'how the fear of Death dismays me! '

in medicine the most astute
sawbones and surgeons all fall mute;
they cannot save themselves, or flee...
how the fear of Death dismays me!

i see the Makers among the unsaved;
the greatest of Poets all go to the grave;
He does not spare them their faculty...
how the fear of Death dismays me!

i have seen Him pitilessly devour
our noble Chaucer, poetry's flower,
and Lydgate and Gower (great Trinity!) ...
how the fear of Death dismays me!

since He has taken my brothers all,
i know He will not let me live past the fall;
His next prey will be — poor unfortunate me! ...
how the fear of Death dismays me!

there is no remedy for Death;
we all must prepare to relinquish breath
so that after we die, we may be set free
from 'the fear of Death dismays me! '



Comin Thro the Rye
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry;
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Should a body meet a body
Comin' through the rye,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need anybody cry?

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Should a body meet a body
Comin' through the glen,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need all the world know, then?

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.



To a Mouse
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

Sleek, tiny, timorous, cowering beast,
why's such panic in your breast?
Why dash away, so quick, so rash,
in a frenzied flash
when I would be loath to pursue you
with a murderous plowstaff!

I'm truly sorry Man's dominion
has broken Nature's social union,
and justifies that bad opinion
which makes you startle,
when I'm your poor, earth-born companion
and fellow mortal!

I have no doubt you sometimes thieve;
What of it, friend? You too must live!
A random corn-ear in a shock's
a small behest; it-
'll give me a blessing to know such a loss;
I'll never miss it!

Your tiny house lies in a ruin,
its fragile walls wind-rent and strewn!
Now nothing's left to construct you a new one
of mosses green
since bleak December's winds, ensuing,
blow fast and keen!

You saw your fields laid bare and waste
with weary winter closing fast,
and cozy here, beneath the blast,
you thought to dwell,
till crash! the cruel iron ploughshare passed
straight through your cell!

That flimsy heap of leaves and stubble
had cost you many a weary nibble!
Now you're turned out, for all your trouble,
less house and hold,
to endure cold winter's icy dribble
and hoarfrosts cold!

But mouse-friend, you are not alone
in proving foresight may be vain:
the best-laid schemes of Mice and Men
go oft awry,
and leave us only grief and pain,
for promised joy!

Still, friend, you're blessed compared with me!
Only present dangers make you flee:
But, ouch! , behind me I can see
grim prospects drear!
While forward-looking seers, we
humans guess and fear!



To a Louse
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

Hey! Where're you going, you crawling hair-fly?
Your impudence protects you, barely;
I can only say that you swagger rarely
Over gauze and lace.
Though faith! I fear you dine but sparely
In such a place.

You ugly, creeping, blasted wonder,
Detested, shunned by both saint and sinner,
How dare you set your feet upon her—
So fine a lady!
Go somewhere else to seek your dinner
On some poor body.

Off! around some beggar's temple shamble:
There you may creep, and sprawl, and scramble,
With other kindred, jumping cattle,
In shoals and nations;
Where horn nor bone never dare unsettle
Your thick plantations.

Now hold you there! You're out of sight,
Below the folderols, snug and tight;
No, faith just yet! You'll not be right,
Till you've got on it:
The very topmost, towering height
Of miss's bonnet.

My word! right bold you root, contrary,
As plump and gray as any gooseberry.
Oh, for some rank, mercurial resin,
Or dread red poison;
I'd give you such a hearty dose, flea,
It'd dress your noggin!

I wouldn't be surprised to spy
You on some housewife's flannel tie:
Or maybe on some ragged boy's
Pale undervest;
But Miss's finest bonnet! Fie!
How dare you jest?

Oh Jenny, do not toss your head,
And lash your lovely braids abroad!
You hardly know what cursed speed
The creature's making!
Those winks and finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice-taking!

O would some Power with vision teach us
To see ourselves as others see us!
It would from many a blunder free us,
And foolish notions:
What airs in dress and carriage would leave us,
And even devotion!



Auld Lang Syne
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And days for which we pine?

For times we shared, my darling,
Days passed, once yours and mine,
We'll raise a cup of kindness yet,
To those fond-remembered times!

Have you ever wondered just exactly what you're singing? 'Auld lang syne' means something like 'times gone by' or 'times long since passed' and in the context of the song means something like 'times long since passed that we shared together and now remember fondly.' In my translation, which is not word-for-word, I try to communicate what I believe Burns was trying to communicate: raising a toast to fond recollections of times shared in the past.



Banks of Doon
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

Oh, banks and hills of lovely Doon,
How can you bloom so fresh and fair;
How can you chant, diminutive birds,
When I'm so weary, full of care!

You'll break my heart, small warblers,
Flittering through the flowering thorn:
Reminding me of long-lost joys,
Departed—never to return!

I've often wandered lovely Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And as the lark sang of its love,
Just as fondly, I sang of mine.

Then gaily-hearted I plucked a rose,
So fragrant upon its thorny tree;
And my false lover stole my rose,
But, ah! , he left the thorn in me.

The poem 'Comin Thro the Rye' by Robert Burns may be best-known today because of Holden Caulfield's misinterpretation of it in The Catcher in the Rye. In the book, Caulfield relates his fantasy to his sister, Phoebe: he's the 'catcher in the rye, ' rescuing children from falling from a cliff. Phoebe corrects him, pointing out that poem is not about a 'catcher' in the rye, but about a girl who has met someone in the rye for a kiss (or more) , got her underclothes wet (not for the first time) , and is dragging her way back to a polite (i.e., Puritanical)  society that despises girls who are 'easy.' Robert Burns, an honest man, was exhibiting empathy for girls who were castigated for doing what all the boys and men longed to do themselves.



Comin Thro the Rye
by Robert Burns
modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O, Jenny's a' weet, poor body, // Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry; // Jenny's seldom dry;
She draigl't a' her petticoattie // She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin thro' the rye. // Comin' through the rye.
Comin thro the rye, poor body, // Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin thro the rye, // Comin' through the rye.
She draigl't a'her petticoatie, // She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin thro the rye! // Comin' through the rye.

Gin a body meet a body // Should a body meet a body
Comin thro the rye, // Comin' through the rye,
Gin a body kiss a body, // Should a body kiss a body,
Need a body cry? // Need anybody cry?
Comin thro the rye, poor body, // Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin thro the rye, // Comin' through the rye.
She draigl't a'her petticoatie, // She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin thro the rye! // Comin' through the rye.

Gin a body meet a body // Should a body meet a body
Comin thro the glen, // Comin' through the glen,
Gin a body kiss a body, // Should a body kiss a body,
Need the warld ken? // Need all the world know, then?
Comin thro the rye, poor body, // Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin thro the rye, // Comin' through the rye.
She draigl't a'her petticoatie, // She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin thro the rye! // Comin' through the rye.



A Red, Red Rose
by Robert Burns
modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Oh my luve is like a red, red rose // Oh, my love is like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June: // that's newly sprung in June
Oh my luve is like the melodie // and my love is like the melody
That's sweetly play'd in tune. // that's sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonie lass, // And you're so fair, my lovely lass,
So deep in luve am I; // and so deep in love am I,
And I will luve thee still, my dear, // that I will love you still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry. // till all the seas run dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, // Till all the seas run dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun; // and the rocks melt with the sun!
And I will luve thee still, my dear, // And I will love you still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run. // while the sands of life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only luve! // And fare you well, my only love!
And fare thee weel a while! // And fare you well, awhile!
And I will come again, my luve, // And I will come again, my love,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile! // though it were ten thousand miles!


Keywords/Tags: Scot, Scotland, Scottish poem, modern English translation, translations, Robert Burns, William Dunbar, William Soutar, Hugh MacDiarmid

Comin Thro the Rye
by Robert Burns
modern English translation by Michael R. Burch

Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry;
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Should a body meet a body
Comin' through the rye,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need anybody cry?

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Should a body meet a body
Comin' through the glen,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need all the world know, then?

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

The poem "Comin Thro the Rye" by Robert Burns may be best-known today because of Holden Caulfield's misinterpretation of it in "The Catcher in the Rye." In the book, Caulfield relates his fantasy to his sister, Phoebe: he's the "catcher in the rye," rescuing children from falling from a cliff. Phoebe corrects him, pointing out that poem is not about a "catcher" in the rye, but about a girl who has met someone in the rye for a kiss (or more), got her underclothes wet (not for the first time), and is dragging her way back to a polite (i.e., Puritanical) society that despises girls who are "easy." Robert Burns, an honest man, was exhibiting empathy for girls who were castigated for doing what all the boys and men longed to do themselves. Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, Jenny, rye, petticoats, translation, modernization, update, interpretation, modern English, song, wet, body, kiss, gossip, puritanism, prudery


Translations of Scottish Poems

Sweet Rose of Virtue
by William Dunbar [1460-1525]
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness,
delightful lily of youthful wantonness,
richest in bounty and in beauty clear
and in every virtue that is held most dear―
except only that you are merciless.

Into your garden, today, I followed you;
there I saw flowers of freshest hue,
both white and red, delightful to see,
and wholesome herbs, waving resplendently―
yet everywhere, no odor but rue.

I fear that March with his last arctic blast
has slain my fair rose of pallid and gentle cast,
whose piteous death does my heart such pain
that, if I could, I would compose her roots again―
so comforting her bowering leaves have been.



Ballad
by William Soutar
translation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

O, surely you have seen my love
Down where the waters wind:
He walks like one who fears no man
And yet his eyes are kind!

O, surely you have seen my love
At the turning of the tide:
For then he gathers in his nets
Down by the waterside!

Yes, lassie we have seen your love
At the turning of the tide:
For he was with the fisher folk
Down by the waterside.

The fisher folk worked at their trade
No far from Walnut Grove:
They gathered in their dripping nets
And found your one true love!

Keywords/Tags: William Soutar, Scottish, Scot, Scotsman, ballad, water, waterside, tide, nets, nets, fisher, fishers, fisher folk, fishermen, love, sea, ocean, lost, lost love, loss



Lament for the Makaris (“Lament for the Makers, or Poets”)
by William Dunbar (c. 1460-1530)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

i who enjoyed good health and gladness
am overwhelmed now by life’s terrible sickness
and enfeebled with infirmity;
the fear of Death dismays me!

our presence here is mere vainglory;
the false world is but transitory;
the flesh is frail; the Fiend runs free;
how the fear of Death dismays me!

the state of man is changeable:
now sound, now sick, now blithe, now dull,
now manic, now devoid of glee;
and the fear of Death dismays me!

no state on earth stands here securely;
as the wild wind waves the willow tree,
so wavers this world’s vanity;
and the fear of Death dismays me!

Death leads the knights into the field
(unarmored under helm and shield)
sole Victor of each red mêlée;
and the fear of Death dismays me!

that strange, despotic Beast
tears from its mother’s breast
the babe, full of benignity;
and the fear of Death dismays me!

He takes the champion of the hour,
the captain of the highest tower,
the beautiful damsel in full flower;
how the fear of Death dismays me!

He spares no lord for his elegance,
nor clerk for his intelligence;
His dreadful stroke no man can flee;
and the fear of Death dismays me!

artist, magician, scientist,
orator, debater, theologist,
all must conclude, so too, as we:
“the fear of Death dismays me!”

in medicine the most astute
sawbones and surgeons all fall mute;
they cannot save themselves, or flee,
and the fear of Death dismays me!

i see the Makers among the unsaved;
the greatest of Poets all go to the grave;
He does not spare them their faculty,
and the fear of Death dismays me!

i have seen Him pitilessly devour
our noble Chaucer, poetry’s flower,
and Lydgate and Gower (great Trinity!);
how the fear of Death dismays me!

since He has taken my brothers all,
i know He will not let me live past the fall;
His next victim will be —poor unfortunate me!—
and how the fear of Death dismays me!

there is no remedy for Death;
we must all prepare to relinquish breath,
so that after we die, we may no more plead:
“the fear of Death dismays me!”



To a Mouse
by Robert Burns
modern English translation by Michael R. Burch

Sleek, tiny, timorous, cowering beast,
why's such panic in your breast?
Why dash away, so quick, so rash,
in a frenzied flash
when I would be loath to pursue you
with a murderous plowstaff!

I'm truly sorry Man's dominion
has broken Nature's social union,
and justifies that bad opinion
which makes you startle,
when I'm your poor, earth-born companion
and fellow mortal!

I have no doubt you sometimes thieve;
What of it, friend? You too must live!
A random corn-ear in a shock's
a small behest; it-
'll give me a blessing to know such a loss;
I'll never miss it!

Your tiny house lies in a ruin,
its fragile walls wind-rent and strewn!
Now nothing's left to construct you a new one
of mosses green
since bleak December's winds, ensuing,
blow fast and keen!

You saw your fields laid bare and waste
with weary winter closing fast,
and cozy here, beneath the blast,
you thought to dwell,
till crash! the cruel iron ploughshare passed
straight through your cell!

That flimsy heap of leaves and stubble
had cost you many a weary nibble!
Now you're turned out, for all your trouble,
less house and hold,
to endure the winter's icy dribble
and hoarfrosts cold!

But mouse-friend, you are not alone
in proving foresight may be vain:
the best-laid schemes of Mice and Men
go oft awry,
and leave us only grief and pain,
for promised joy!

Still, friend, you're blessed compared with me!
Only present dangers make you flee:
But, ouch!, behind me I can see
grim prospects drear!
While forward-looking seers, we
humans guess and fear!



To a Louse
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hey! Where're you going, you crawling hair-fly?
Your impudence protects you, barely;
I can only say that you swagger rarely
Over gauze and lace.
Though faith! I fear you dine but sparely
In such a place.

You ugly, creeping, blasted wonder,
Detested, shunned by both saint and sinner,
How dare you set your feet upon her—
So fine a lady!
Go somewhere else to seek your dinner
On some poor body.

Off! around some beggar's temple shamble:
There you may creep, and sprawl, and scramble,
With other kindred, jumping cattle,
In shoals and nations;
Where horn nor bone never dare unsettle
Your thick plantations.

Now hold you there! You're out of sight,
Below the folderols, snug and tight;
No, faith just yet! You'll not be right,
Till you've got on it:
The very topmost, towering height
Of miss's bonnet.

My word! right bold you root, contrary,
As plump and gray as any gooseberry.
Oh, for some rank, mercurial resin,
Or dread red poison;
I'd give you such a hearty dose, flea,
It'd dress your noggin!

I wouldn't be surprised to spy
You on some housewife's flannel tie:
Or maybe on some ragged boy's
Pale undervest;
But Miss's finest bonnet! Fie!
How dare you jest?

Oh Jenny, do not toss your head,
And lash your lovely braids abroad!
You hardly know what cursed speed
The creature's making!
Those winks and finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice-taking!

O would some Power with vision teach us
To see ourselves as others see us!
It would from many a blunder free us,
And foolish notions:
What airs in dress and carriage would leave us,
And even devotion!



A Red, Red Rose
by Robert Burns
modern English translation by Michael R. Burch

Oh, my love is like a red, red rose
that's newly sprung in June
and my love is like the melody
that's sweetly played in tune.

And you're so fair, my lovely lass,
and so deep in love am I,
that I will love you still, my dear,
till all the seas run dry.

Till all the seas run dry, my dear,
and the rocks melt with the sun!
And 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 miles!



Auld Lange Syne
by Robert Burns
modern English translation by Michael R. Burch

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And days for which we pine?

For times we shared, my darling,
Days passed, once yours and mine,
We’ll raise a cup of kindness yet,
To those fond-remembered times!



Banks o' Doon
by Robert Burns
modern English translation by Michael R. Burch

Oh, banks and hills of lovely Doon,
How can you bloom so fresh and fair;
How can you chant, diminutive birds,
When I'm so weary, full of care!
You'll break my heart, small warblers,
Flittering through the flowering thorn:
Reminding me of long-lost joys,
Departed―never to return!

I've often wandered lovely Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And as the lark sang of its love,
Just as fondly, I sang of mine.
Then gaily-hearted I plucked a rose,
So fragrant upon its thorny tree;
And my false lover stole my rose,
But, ah! , he left the thorn in me.

"The Banks o' Doon" is a Scots song written by Robert Burns in 1791. It is based on the story of Margaret (Peggy)Kennedy, a girl Burns knew and the area around the River Doon. Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, air, song, Doon, banks, Scots, Scottish, Scotland, translation, modernization, update, interpretation, modern English, love, hill, hills, birds, rose, lyric

Banks o' Doon
by Robert Burns
modern English translation by Michael R. Burch

Oh, banks and hills of lovely Doon,
How can you bloom so fresh and fair;
How can you chant, diminutive birds,
When I'm so weary, full of care!
You'll break my heart, small warblers,
Flittering through the flowering thorn:
Reminding me of long-lost joys,
Departed―never to return!

I've often wandered lovely Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And as the lark sang of its love,
Just as fondly, I sang of mine.
Then gaily-hearted I plucked a rose,
So fragrant upon its thorny tree;
And my false lover stole my rose,
But, ah!, he left the thorn in me.

“The Banks o’ Doon” is a Scots song written by Robert Burns in 1791. It is based on the story of Margaret (Peggy) Kennedy, a girl Burns knew. Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, song, Doon, banks, Scots, Scottish, Scotland, translation, modernization, update, interpretation, modern English



Translations of Scottish Poems

Sweet Rose of Virtue
by William Dunbar [1460-1525]
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness,
delightful lily of youthful wantonness,
richest in bounty and in beauty clear
and in every virtue that is held most dear―
except only that you are merciless.

Into your garden, today, I followed you;
there I saw flowers of freshest hue,
both white and red, delightful to see,
and wholesome herbs, waving resplendently―
yet everywhere, no odor but rue.

I fear that March with his last arctic blast
has slain my fair rose of pallid and gentle cast,
whose piteous death does my heart such pain
that, if I could, I would compose her roots again―
so comforting her bowering leaves have been.



Ballad
by William Soutar
translation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

O, surely you have seen my love
Down where the waters wind:
He walks like one who fears no man
And yet his eyes are kind!

O, surely you have seen my love
At the turning of the tide:
For then he gathers in his nets
Down by the waterside!

Yes, lassie we have seen your love
At the turning of the tide:
For he was with the fisher folk
Down by the waterside.

The fisher folk worked at their trade
No far from Walnut Grove:
They gathered in their dripping nets
And found your one true love!

Keywords/Tags: William Soutar, Scottish, Scot, Scotsman, ballad, water, waterside, tide, nets, nets, fisher, fishers, fisher folk, fishermen, love, sea, ocean, lost, lost love, loss



Lament for the Makaris (“Lament for the Makers, or Poets”)
by William Dunbar (c. 1460-1530)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

i who enjoyed good health and gladness
am overwhelmed now by life’s terrible sickness
and enfeebled with infirmity;
the fear of Death dismays me!

our presence here is mere vainglory;
the false world is but transitory;
the flesh is frail; the Fiend runs free;
how the fear of Death dismays me!

the state of man is changeable:
now sound, now sick, now blithe, now dull,
now manic, now devoid of glee;
and the fear of Death dismays me!

no state on earth stands here securely;
as the wild wind waves the willow tree,
so wavers this world’s vanity;
and the fear of Death dismays me!

Death leads the knights into the field
(unarmored under helm and shield)
sole Victor of each red mêlée;
and the fear of Death dismays me!

that strange, despotic Beast
tears from its mother’s breast
the babe, full of benignity;
and the fear of Death dismays me!

He takes the champion of the hour,
the captain of the highest tower,
the beautiful damsel in full flower;
how the fear of Death dismays me!

He spares no lord for his elegance,
nor clerk for his intelligence;
His dreadful stroke no man can flee;
and the fear of Death dismays me!

artist, magician, scientist,
orator, debater, theologist,
all must conclude, so too, as we:
“the fear of Death dismays me!”

in medicine the most astute
sawbones and surgeons all fall mute;
they cannot save themselves, or flee,
and the fear of Death dismays me!

i see the Makers among the unsaved;
the greatest of Poets all go to the grave;
He does not spare them their faculty,
and the fear of Death dismays me!

i have seen Him pitilessly devour
our noble Chaucer, poetry’s flower,
and Lydgate and Gower (great Trinity!);
how the fear of Death dismays me!

since He has taken my brothers all,
i know He will not let me live past the fall;
His next victim will be —poor unfortunate me!—
and how the fear of Death dismays me!

there is no remedy for Death;
we must all prepare to relinquish breath,
so that after we die, we may no more plead:
“the fear of Death dismays me!”



To a Mouse
by Robert Burns
modern English translation by Michael R. Burch

Sleek, tiny, timorous, cowering beast,
why's such panic in your breast?
Why dash away, so quick, so rash,
in a frenzied flash
when I would be loath to pursue you
with a murderous plowstaff!

I'm truly sorry Man's dominion
has broken Nature's social union,
and justifies that bad opinion
which makes you startle,
when I'm your poor, earth-born companion
and fellow mortal!

I have no doubt you sometimes thieve;
What of it, friend? You too must live!
A random corn-ear in a shock's
a small behest; it-
'll give me a blessing to know such a loss;
I'll never miss it!

Your tiny house lies in a ruin,
its fragile walls wind-rent and strewn!
Now nothing's left to construct you a new one
of mosses green
since bleak December's winds, ensuing,
blow fast and keen!

You saw your fields laid bare and waste
with weary winter closing fast,
and cozy here, beneath the blast,
you thought to dwell,
till crash! the cruel iron ploughshare passed
straight through your cell!

That flimsy heap of leaves and stubble
had cost you many a weary nibble!
Now you're turned out, for all your trouble,
less house and hold,
to endure the winter's icy dribble
and hoarfrosts cold!

But mouse-friend, you are not alone
in proving foresight may be vain:
the best-laid schemes of Mice and Men
go oft awry,
and leave us only grief and pain,
for promised joy!

Still, friend, you're blessed compared with me!
Only present dangers make you flee:
But, ouch!, behind me I can see
grim prospects drear!
While forward-looking seers, we
humans guess and fear!



To a Louse
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hey! Where're you going, you crawling hair-fly?
Your impudence protects you, barely;
I can only say that you swagger rarely
Over gauze and lace.
Though faith! I fear you dine but sparely
In such a place.

You ugly, creeping, blasted wonder,
Detested, shunned by both saint and sinner,
How dare you set your feet upon her—
So fine a lady!
Go somewhere else to seek your dinner
On some poor body.

Off! around some beggar's temple shamble:
There you may creep, and sprawl, and scramble,
With other kindred, jumping cattle,
In shoals and nations;
Where horn nor bone never dare unsettle
Your thick plantations.

Now hold you there! You're out of sight,
Below the folderols, snug and tight;
No, faith just yet! You'll not be right,
Till you've got on it:
The very topmost, towering height
Of miss's bonnet.

My word! right bold you root, contrary,
As plump and gray as any gooseberry.
Oh, for some rank, mercurial resin,
Or dread red poison;
I'd give you such a hearty dose, flea,
It'd dress your noggin!

I wouldn't be surprised to spy
You on some housewife's flannel tie:
Or maybe on some ragged boy's
Pale undervest;
But Miss's finest bonnet! Fie!
How dare you jest?

Oh Jenny, do not toss your head,
And lash your lovely braids abroad!
You hardly know what cursed speed
The creature's making!
Those winks and finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice-taking!

O would some Power with vision teach us
To see ourselves as others see us!
It would from many a blunder free us,
And foolish notions:
What airs in dress and carriage would leave us,
And even devotion!



A Red, Red Rose
by Robert Burns
modern English translation by Michael R. Burch

Oh, my love is like a red, red rose
that's newly sprung in June
and my love is like the melody
that's sweetly played in tune.

And you're so fair, my lovely lass,
and so deep in love am I,
that I will love you still, my dear,
till all the seas run dry.

Till all the seas run dry, my dear,
and the rocks melt with the sun!
And 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 miles!



Comin Thro the Rye
by Robert Burns
modern English translation by Michael R. Burch

Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry;
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Should a body meet a body
Comin' through the rye,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need anybody cry?

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Should a body meet a body
Comin' through the glen,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need all the world know, then?

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.



Auld Lange Syne
by Robert Burns
modern English translation by Michael R. Burch

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And days for which we pine?

For times we shared, my darling,
Days passed, once yours and mine,
We’ll raise a cup of kindness yet,
To those fond-remembered times!

Coffin Nail

Sing it with me 1 2 3.
Maybe love is not for me.
Could it be my nervous twitch?
Maybe it's my oxy itch.
Build yourself a padded room,
Big enough for him and you.
Straight jacket gray and used.
Cover up your bad tattoos.
Could It be the way you bailed?
I'm draggin on a coffin nail.
Sent our love away to fly.
But baby I still had to try.
Take it till it's not enough.
Moving on is not so tough.
So karma then would be your prize.
Chew it up with all the lies.
And the people that you thought you knew..
built an army who will despise you.

Don't try to hear me now.
How can silence be so loud?
Through everything I seem to fail.
I'm draggin on a coffin nail.
What have you got left to show?
Baby I couldn't sink so low.
An infant left a broken home.
Just so you could spread and roam.
Maybe you won't read this text.
Maybe you won't see whats next.
Baby I can not deny.
I really wanna see you die.
My heart is numb my knees are frail.
I'm still draggin on a coffin nail

Johnny and Mary*

Now Johnny knew Mary since they were little tykes,
Running in the field, riding their bikes,
Like other little kids, they stayed out all day,
Doing their chores, later they'll play,
Johnny and Mary went to school,
Tried real hard, act real cool,
Johnny noticed Mary started to grow real fine,
Nice firm *******, big behin',
Johnny thought he'd take him a chance,
He asked Mary to the high shool dance,
Mary said fine, pick me up at eight,
Dress real sharp, now don't be late,
Johnny started thinkin' this could be his night,
Throw her a line, maybe she'll bite,
Johnny and Mary started to dance real slow,
Something in Johnny's pants, startin' to grow,
Johnny asked Mary to spend some time,
Back at my place, we can sit and unwind,
Johnny took Mary straight back to his pad,
This will be the best night, he's ever had,
Poured a little wine and dimmed the light,
Made sure everything, looked just right,
Went over to the stereo and put on a song,
Then he gave her a kiss, slow and long,
Their lips met and their tongues did a dance,
As Johnny reached down and undid his pants,
He removed hers too and went to town,
Got on his knees, he was going down,
Mary started to wiggle, moan and squirm,
As Johnny's tool got nice and firm,
A few more licks, a feel and a pet,
Mary's hole was nice and wet,
Stuck in the tip, a little poke,
Then all the way, he was startin' to stroke,
As Johnny got busy and started to ream,
All the neighbors could hear Mary scream,
Johnny got tense and was about to explode,
Into Mary he shot his load,
A few days later Mary felt real ill,
Then she remembered, she forgot her pill,
Mary gave birth to a fine looking son,
Mary's father started to clean his gun,
Johnny married Mary at City Hall,
He didn't want her dad to cut off his *****,
Johnny got a job so he could provide support,
He didn't want Mary draggin' him to court,
A few years down the road things didn't seem right,
Johnny and Mary were starting to fight,
There was a whole lotta fussin' and they began to shout,
Mary told Johnny she wanted him out,
Mary got a lawyer, just passed the bar,
Now Mary's driving Johnny's brand new car.

That is the story of Johnny and Mary...Later...*
07-03-09.

What's up, Chicken Little? Whatchu think you know?
The sky is fallin', Skittles droppin’ out the rainbow.
Don’t hate me cuz I’m fast. Don’t hate me cuz I’m keen.
Hate me cuz I got more tiger’s blood than Charlie Sheen.

My rappin’ is a skill, wait, matter fact a habit.
This rhyme is so rare I threw a Masterball at it.
Ima get you to the point when you done think you had it
then keep on chuggin’ through like the Energizer Rabbit.

Runnin’ this game since I was born in 1990.
Ball so hard like Waldo everybody wants to find me.
Watch me as I fly free, practicing my Tai Chi,
soarin’ through the sky like Ben Franklin with his kite key.

I slay wicked verses like they fire breathin’ dragons.
Always down for an adventure so they call me Bilbo Baggins.
You got your feet draggin’ from all your pithy laggin’.
Chokin’ on my farts, left you in my dust gaggin’.

My girls be elegant while yours be nothing but ******.
No diamonds in my ears cuz I don’t like to be flashy.
You just can’t get past me, kilo in the backseat.
NOS tank in the front so them piggies can’t get at me.

Lyrics like the plague so they call my **** Bubonic.
Sittin’ at the bar gettin’ drunk on gin and tonic.
Blowin’ on that chronic, so fast they call me Sonic.
Watch me transform as I go Megatronic.

Is my **** too fast? You need to stop and smell the flowers?
I am just a human, I ain't got no special powers.
I could go for hours. The rap game I devour.
Like Frodo with the ring takin’ down the Two Towers.

My rhymes are heavy duty while yours be made of plastic.
Better call the Doctor cuz this **** is getting’ drastic.
Snap back like elastic, I made an instant classic.
Light the roof on fire with a flick of my matchstick.

I’m tellin’ all them haters that I’m wicked sick nasty.
Dissin’ all they want to but they too scared to come at me.
I go where the cash be, rappin’ makes me happy.
Don’t wash my hair for days cuz I like that **** *****.

All I really wanna do is have a rap battle
cuz my rhymes are so disgusting they’ll make your head rattle.
You’re in a boat with no paddle, on a horse with no saddle.
It’s lookin like you’re gonna hafta ******* straddle.

I know I have the sickest flow that you have ever felt.
There’s nothin’ you can do it’s just the hand that I was dealt.
Killa Kraig will make you melt, yes it matters how it’s spelt.
Get it right the first time or I’ll leave you with a ******' welt.

My game will give you chills from your head down to your feet.
Sittin’ on the couch cuz I love to chill with Pete.
I’m the man to beat cuz I bring all the heat.
Grew up in the burbs, didn’t grow up on the street.

They gave me a gold medal when I scored a perfect 10
cuz I got the versatility of an erasable pen.
Singin’ like a ren, no need to pretend.
Murkin’ rhymes like zombies like my Asian friend Glenn.

Honesty’s a virtue so you know I never front it.
Always swingin’ for a homer, ain’t no need to ever bunt it.
Now you really done it, watch me as I run it.
I made it to the center of the Tootsie Pop in one lick.

Crusin’ round town in my green 6-4 Impala.
Drop so many bombs that you think I worship Allah.
Dolla’ after dolla’, cute as a koala,
but ruthless as a renegade Viking in Valhalla.

My lyrics kick you in the nuts now you talkin’ like a munchkin.
Drop you to the floor like some Mohammed Ali punchin’.
Where is Conjunction Junction? Do the number crunchin’.
Get you home by midnight so you don’t turn into a pumpkin.

Stickin’ to the game like some universal duct tape.
Give you three tries while I nail it in one take.
I'm the sugar on the cornflake, the reason for an earthquake.
I'll toss you like a salad or a chicken in some Shake n’ Bake.

Now grab a pen a paper cuz here’s the final lesson.
I know who’s on first so now tell me what’s on second.
I did the number checkin’, I’m the best I reckon.
While you standin’ at the wrong end of my ******’ Smith & Wesson.

Takaha Shugyo haiku and tanka translations

Takaha Shugyo (1930-) is a Japanese poet. He was born in Japan's mountainous Yamagata Prefecture and began writing haiku at age fifteen. He studied with the renowned Yamaguchi Seishi and Akimoto Fujio, won the Young Poet's Award in 1965, then went on to found the haiku magazine KARI in 1978.

Wild geese pass
leaving the emptiness of heaven
revealed
― Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Are the geese flying south?
The candle continues to flicker ...
―Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Oh, fallen camellias,
if I were you,
I'd leap into the torrent!
―Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A single tree
with a heart carved into its trunk
blossoms prematurely
―Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Still clad in its clown's costume—
the dead ladybird.
―Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch


Inside the cracked shell
of a walnut:
one empty room
― Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Such gloom!
Inside the walnut's cracked shell:
one empty room
―Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Bring me an icicle
sparkling with the stars
of the deep north
― Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Seen from the skyscraper
the trees' fresh greenery:
parsley sprigs
― Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Our life here on earth:
to what shall we compare it?
It is not like a rowboat
departing at daybreak,
leaving no trace of us in its wake?
― Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Tree crickets chirping—
after I've judged
a thousand verses today!
―Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Crickets chirping discordantly—
how to judge
ten thousand verses?
―Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Original Haiku

Sleepyheads!
I recite my haiku
to the inattentive lilies.
—Michael R. Burch



POEMS ABOUT NIGHTMARES

My nightmare ...
by Michael R. Burch, writing as “The Child Poets of Gaza”

I had a dream of Jesus!
Mama, his eyes were so kind!
But behind him I saw a billion Christians
hissing "You're nothing!," so blind.



Excelsior
by Michael R. Burch

I lift my eyes and laugh, Excelsior . . .
Why do you come, wan spirit, heaven-gowned,
complaining that I am no longer “pure?”

I threw myself before you, and you frowned,
so full of noble chastity, renowned
for leaving maidens maidens. In the dark
I sought love’s bright enchantment, but your lips
were stone; my fiery metal drew no spark
to light the cold dominions of your heart.

What realms were ours? What leasehold? And what claim
upon these territories, cold and dark,
do you seek now, pale phantom? Would you light
my heart in death and leave me ashen-white,
as you are white, extinguished by the Night?



Excerpts from the Journal of Dorian Gray
by Michael R. Burch

It was not so much dream, as error;
I lay and felt the creeping terror
of what I had become take hold . . .

The moon watched, silent, palest gold;
the picture by the mantle watched;
the clock upon the mantle talked,
in halting voice, of minute things . . .

Twelve strokes like lashes and their stings
scored anthems to my loneliness,
but I have dreamed of what is best,
and I have promised to be good . . .

Dismembered limbs in vats of wood,
foul acids, and a strangled cry!
I did not care, I watched him die . . .

Each lovely rose has thorns we miss;
they ***** our lips, should we once kiss
their mangled limbs, or think to clasp
their violent beauty. Dream, aghast,
the flower of my loveliness,
this ageless face (for who could guess?),
and I will kiss you when I rise . . .

The patterns of our lives comprise
strange portraits. Mine, I fear,
proved dear indeed . . . Adieu!
The knife’s for you.

Originally published by Dusk & Shiver Magazine



ROBERT BURNS TRANSLATIONS/MODERNIZATIONS

Comin Thro the Rye
by Robert Burns

Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry;
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Should a body meet a body
Comin' through the rye,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need anybody cry?

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Should a body meet a body
Comin' through the glen,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need all the world know, then?

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.



A Red, Red Rose
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

Oh, my love is like a red, red rose
that's newly sprung in June
and my love is like the melody
that's sweetly played in tune.

And you're so fair, my lovely lass,
and so deep in love am I,
that I will love you still, my dear,
till all the seas run dry.

Till all the seas run dry, my dear,
and the rocks melt with the sun!
And 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 miles!



Banks of Doon
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

Oh, banks and hills of lovely Doon,
How can you bloom so fresh and fair;
How can you chant, ecstatic birds,
When I'm so weary, full of care!

You'll break my heart, small warblers,
Flittering through the flowering thorn:
Reminding me of long-lost joys,
Departed—never to return!

I've often wandered lovely Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And as the lark sang of its love,
Just as fondly, I sang of mine.

Then gaily-hearted I plucked a rose,
So fragrant upon its thorny tree;
And my false lover stole my rose,
But, ah!, he left the thorn in me.



Auld Lange Syne
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And days for which we pine?

For times we shared, my darling,
Days passed, once yours and mine,
We’ll raise a cup of kindness yet,
To those fond-remembered times!

Have you ever wondered just exactly what you're singing? "Auld lang syne" means something like "times gone by" or "times long since passed" and in the context of the song means something like "times long since passed that we shared together and now remember fondly." In my translation, which is not word-for-word, I try to communicate what I believe Burns was trying to communicate: raising a toast to fond recollections of times shared in the past.



To a Mouse
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

Sleek, tiny, timorous, cowering beast,
why's such panic in your breast?
Why dash away, so quick, so rash,
in a frenzied flash
when I would be loath to pursue you
with a murderous plowstaff!

I'm truly sorry Man's dominion
has broken Nature's social union,
and justifies that bad opinion
which makes you startle,
when I'm your poor, earth-born companion
and fellow mortal!

I have no doubt you sometimes thieve;
What of it, friend? You too must live!
A random corn-ear in a shock's
a small behest; it-
'll give me a blessing to know such a loss;
I'll never miss it!

Your tiny house lies in a ruin,
its fragile walls wind-rent and strewn!
Now nothing's left to construct you a new one
of mosses green
since bleak December's winds, ensuing,
blow fast and keen!

You saw your fields laid bare and waste
with weary winter closing fast,
and cozy here, beneath the blast,
you thought to dwell,
till crash! the cruel iron ploughshare passed
straight through your cell!

That flimsy heap of leaves and stubble
had cost you many a weary nibble!
Now you're turned out, for all your trouble,
less house and hold,
to endure cold winter's icy dribble
and hoarfrosts cold!

But mouse-friend, you are not alone
in proving foresight may be vain:
the best-laid schemes of Mice and Men
go oft awry,
and leave us only grief and pain,
for promised joy!

Still, friend, you're blessed compared with me!
Only present dangers make you flee:
But, ouch!, behind me I can see
grim prospects drear!
While forward-looking seers, we
humans guess and fear!



To a Louse
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

Hey! Where're you going, you crawling hair-fly?
Your impudence protects you, barely;
I can only say that you swagger rarely
Over gauze and lace.
Though faith! I fear you dine but sparely
In such a place.

You ugly, creeping, blasted wonder,
Detested, shunned by both saint and sinner,
How dare you set your feet upon her—
So fine a lady!
Go somewhere else to seek your dinner
On some poor body.

Off! around some beggar's temple shamble:
There you may creep, and sprawl, and scramble,
With other kindred, jumping cattle,
In shoals and nations;
Where horn nor bone never dare unsettle
Your thick plantations.

Now hold you there! You're out of sight,
Below the folderols, snug and tight;
No, faith just yet! You'll not be right,
Till you've got on it:
The very topmost, towering height
Of miss's bonnet.

My word! right bold you root, contrary,
As plump and gray as any gooseberry.
Oh, for some rank, mercurial resin,
Or dread red poison;
I'd give you such a hearty dose, flea,
It'd dress your noggin!

I wouldn't be surprised to spy
You on some housewife's flannel tie:
Or maybe on some ragged boy's
Pale undervest;
But Miss's finest bonnet! Fie!
How dare you jest?

Oh Jenny, do not toss your head,
And lash your lovely braids abroad!
You hardly know what cursed speed
The creature's making!
Those winks and finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice-taking!

O would some Power with vision teach us
To see ourselves as others see us!
It would from many a blunder free us,
And foolish notions:
What airs in dress and carriage would leave us,
And even devotion!

#BURNS #MRBURNS



POEMS ABOUT SAINTS AND SINNERS

Of Seabound Saints and Promised Lands
by Michael R. Burch

Judas sat on a wretched rock,
his head still sore from Satan’s gnawing.
Saint Brendan’s curragh caught his eye,
wildly geeing and hawing.

"I’m on parole from Hell today!,"
Pale Judas cried from his lonely perch.
"You’ve fasted forty days, good Saint!
Let this rock by my church,
my baptismal, these icy waves.
O, plead for me now with the One who saves!"

Saint Brendan, full of mercy, stood
at the lurching prow of his flimsy bark,
and mightily prayed for the mangy man
whose flesh flashed pale and stark
in the golden dawn, beneath a sun
that seemed to halo his tonsured dome.
Then Saint Brendan sailed for the Promised Land
and Saint Judas headed Home.

O, behoove yourself, if ever you can,
of the fervent prayer of a righteous man!

In Dante’s "Inferno," Satan gnaws on Judas Iscariot’s head. A curragh is a boat fashioned from wood and ox hides. Saint Brendan of Ireland is the patron saint of sailors and whales. According to legend, he sailed in search of the Promised Land and discovered America centuries before Columbus.




DANTE TRANSLATIONS
Translations of Dante Epigrams and Quotes by Michael R. Burch

Little sparks may ignite great Infernos.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

In Beatrice I beheld the outer boundaries of blessedness.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

She made my veins and even the pulses within them tremble.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Her sweetness left me intoxicated.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Love commands me by determining my desires.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Follow your own path and let the bystanders gossip.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The devil is not as dark as depicted.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

There is no greater sorrow than to recall how we delighted in our own wretchedness.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

As he, who with heaving lungs escaped the suffocating sea, turns to regard its perilous waters.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O human race, born to soar heavenward, why do you nosedive in the mildest breeze?—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O human race, born to soar heavenward, why do you quail at the least breath of wind?—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Midway through my life’s journey
I awoke to find myself lost in a trackless wood,
for I had strayed far from the straight path.
—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

INSCRIPTION ON THE GATE OF HELL
Before me nothing existed, to fear.
Eternal I am, and eternal I endure.
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.
—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



POEMS ABOUT TIME, LOSS AND FADING MEMORIES

Cycles
by Michael R. Burch

I see his eyes caress my daughter’s *******
through her thin cotton dress,
and how an indiscreet strap of her white bra
holds his bald fingers
in fumbling mammalian awe . . .
And I remember long cycles into the bruised dusk
of a distant park,
hot blushes,
wild, disembodied rushes of blood,
portentous intrusions of lips, tongues and fingers . . .
and now in him the memory of me lingers
like something thought rancid,
proved rotten.
I see Another again—hard, staring, and silent—
though long-ago forgotten . . .
And I remember conjectures of ***** lines,
brief flashes of white down bleacher stairs,
coarse patches of hair glimpsed in bathroom mirrors,
all the odd, questioning stares . . .
Yes, I remember it all now,
and I shoo them away,
willing them not to play too long or too hard
in the back yard—
with a long, ineffectual stare
that years from now, he may suddenly remember.



Photographs
by Michael R. Burch

Here are the effects of a life
and they might tell us a tale
(if only we had time to listen)
of how each imperiled tear would glisten,
remembered as brightness in her eyes,
and how each dawn’s dramatic skies
could never match such pale azure.

Like dreams of her, these ghosts endure
and they tell us a tale of impatient glory . . .
till a line appears—a trace of worry?—
or the wayward track of a wandering smile
which even now can charm, beguile?

We might find good cause to wonder
as we see her pause (to frown?, to ponder?):
what vexed her in her loveliness . . .
what weight, what crushing heaviness
turned her auburn hair a frazzled gray,
and stole her youth before her day?

We might ask ourselves: did Time devour
the passion with the ravaged flower?
But here and there a smile will bloom
to light the leaden, shadowed gloom
that always seems to linger near . . .

And here we find a single tear:
it shimmers like translucent dew
and tells us Anguish touched her too,
and did not spare her for her hair's
burnt copper, or her eyes' soft hue.

Published in  Tucumcari Literary Review (the first poem in its issue)



POEMS ABOUT DAY AND NIGHT

Day, and Night (I)
by Michael R. Burch

The moon exposes syphilitic craters
and veiled by ghostly willows, palely looms,
while we who rise each day to grind a living,
dream each scented night of such perfumes
as drew us to the window, to the moonlight,
when all the earth was steeped in cobalt blue—
an eerie vase of achromatic flowers
bled silver by pale starlight, losing hue.

The night begins her waltz to waiting sunrise—
adagio, the music she now hears,
while we who in the sunlight slave for succor,
dreaming, seek communion with the spheres.
And all around the night is in crescendo,
and everywhere the stars’ bright legions form,
and here we hear the sweet incriminations
of lovers we had once to keep us warm.

And also here we find, like bled carnations,
red lips that whitened, kisses drawn to lies,
that touched us once with fierce incantations
and taught us love was prettier than wise.



Day, and Night (II)
by Michael R. Burch

The moon exposes pockmarked scars of craters;
her visage, veiled by willows, palely looms.
And we who rise each day to grind a living,
dream each scented night of such perfumes
as drew us to the window, to the moonlight,
when all the earth was steeped in cobalt blue—
an eerie vase of achromatic flowers
bled silver by pale starlight, losing hue.
The night begins her waltz to waiting sunrise—
adagio, the music she now hears;
and we who in the sunlight slave for succor,
dreaming, seek communion with the spheres.
And all around the night is in crescendo,
and everywhere the stars’ bright legions form,
and here we hear the sweet incriminations
of lovers we had once to keep us warm.
And also here we find, like bled carnations,
red lips that whitened, kisses drawn to lies,
that touched us once with fierce incantations
and taught us love was prettier than wise.



POEMS ABOUT ABRAHAM LINCOLN AND ANN RUTLEDGE

Ann Rutledge’s grave marker in Petersburg, Illinois, contains a poem written by Edgar Lee Masters in which she is “Beloved of Abraham Lincoln, / Wedded to him, not through union, / But through separation.”

Ann Rutledge’s Irregular Quilt
by Michael R. Burch

based on “Lincoln the Unknown” by Dale Carnegie

I.
Her fingers “plied the needle” with “unusual swiftness and art”
till Abe knelt down beside her: then her demoralized heart
set Eros’s dart a-quiver; thus a crazy quilt emerged:
strange stitches all a-kilter, all patterns lost. (Her host
kept her vicarious laughter barely submerged.)

II.
Years later she’d show off the quilt with its uncertain stitches
as evidence love undermines men’s plans and women’s strictures
(and a plethora of scriptures.)

III.
But O the sacred tenderness Ann’s reckless stitch contains
and all the world’s felicities: rich cloth, for love’s fine gains,
for sweethearts’ tremulous fingers and their bright, uncertain vows
and all love’s blithe, erratic hopes (like now’s).

IV.
Years later on a pilgrimage, by tenderness obsessed,
Dale Carnegie, drawn to her grave, found weeds in her place of rest
and mowed them back, revealing the spot of the Railsplitter’s joy and grief
(and his hope and his disbelief).

V.
Yes, such is the tenderness of love, and such are its disappointments.
Love is a book of rhapsodic poems. Love is an grab bag of ointments.
Love is the finger poised, the smile, the Question — perhaps the Answer?
Love is the pain of betrayal, the two left feet of the dancer.

VI.
There were ladies of ill repute in his past. Or so he thought. Was it true?
And yet he loved them, Ann (sweet Ann!), as tenderly as he loved you.



Winter Thoughts of Ann Rutledge
by Michael R. Burch

Winter was not easy,
nor would the spring return.
I knew you by your absence,
as men are wont to burn
with strange indwelling fire —
such longings you inspire!

But winter was not easy,
nor would the sun relent
from sculpting ****** images
and how could I repent?
I left quaint offerings in the snow,
more maiden than I care to know.



RISQUE LIMERICKS

Dee Lite Full
by Michael R. Burch

A cross-dressing dancer, “Dee Lite,”
wore gowns luciferously bright
till he washed them one day
the old-fashioned way ...
in bleach. Now he’s “Sister Off-White.”



The ****** Ender Blender
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a bubbly bartender,
a transvestite who went on a ******.
“So I cut myself off,”
she cried with a sob,
“There’s the evidence, there in the blender!”

KEYWORDS/TAGS: Takaha Shugyo, haiku translations, tanka translations, Robert Burns, Dante, modern English translations

Sing it with me 1 2 3.
Maybe love is not for me.
Could it be my nervous twitch?
Maybe it's my oxy itch.
Build yourself a padded room,
Big enough for him and you.
Straight jacket gray and used.
Cover up your bad tattoos.
Could It be the way you bailed?
I'm draggin on a coffin nail.
Sent our love away to fly.
But baby I still had to try.
Take it till it's not enough.
Moving on is not so tough.
So karma then would be your prize.
Chew it up with all the lies.
And the people that you thought you knew..
built an army who will despise you.

Don't try to hear me now.
How can silence be so loud?
Through everything I seem to fail.
I'm draggin on a coffin nail.
What have you got left to show?
Baby I couldn't sink so low.
An infant left a broken home.
Just so you could spread and roam.
Maybe you won't read this text.
Maybe you won't see whats next.
Baby I can not deny.
I really wanna see you die.
My heart is numb my knees are frail.
I'm still draggin on a coffin nail

By: Cedric McClester

Your ***** - my ***** - our *****’s gone
Over 5000 people were there to morn
So when I hear you callin him I get real torn
And emotionally become a bit forlorn
Your ***** – my ***** –our *****’s dead
What’s it gonna take to get that through your head
Some blame it on the kinda life he led
But I blame it on all y’all instead
Your ***** – my ***** everywhere I go
Our *****’s dead - act like you know
It’s become a sport or some kinda game
To casually evoke his name in vain
Your ***** – my ***** – our ***** is
Turning in the grave site where he lives
All the while wonderin what the hell gives
And I ain’t jiving you I’m talkin square biz

Your ***** – my ***** – our *****’s gone
Out of pain and struggle our ***** was born
The object of ridicule and also scorn
Now the mention of his name only brings a yawn

Your ***** – my ***** – our *****’s at rest
After all he’s been through he deserved no less
But y’all like to drop his name nevertheless
No respect for the dead if I was to guess
Your ***** – my ***** – our ***** died
But y’all still call him like he was alive
If the truth be told then you would confide
Nothin I said can be denied
Your ***** – my *****- our ***** too
Carried himself the way most ****** do
Pants fallin down draggin at his shoe
Actin as if he had a missin *****
Your ***** – my *****- our ***** was
Characterized by what a ***** does
Everywhere he goes he creates a buzz

Your ***** – my ***** – our *****’s gone
Out of pain and struggle our ***** was born
The object of ridicule and also scorn
Now the mention of his name only brings a yawn

Your ***** – my ***** – our ***** see
Met with a horrible tragedy
So he’s not here he ceases to be
Anything other than a memory
Free at last free at last at last he’s free
Your ***** – my ***** – our ***** gave
Everything he had when he was enslaved
Finally at rest in a six foot grave
And all we’re left with is his name to save
Your ***** – my ***** - our *****’s through
But then again I think somehow you knew
To a *****’s code the ***** was true
Now letting him go is the thing to do
Your ***** – my ***** – our ***** left
But none of y’all act as if you are bereft

Your ***** – my ***** – our *****’s gone
Out of pain and struggle our ***** was born
The object of ridicule and also scorn
Now the mention of his name only brings a yawn

Your ***** - my ***** - our *****’s gone
Over 5000 people were there to morn
So when I hear you callin him I get real torn
And emotionally become a bit forlorn
Your ***** – my ***** –our *****’s dead
What’s it gonna take to get that through your head
Some blame it on the kinda life he led
But I blame it on all y’all instead
Your ***** – my ***** everywhere I go
Our *****’s dead - act like you know
It’s become a sport or some kinda game
To casually evoke his name in vain
Your ***** – my ***** – our ***** is
Turning in the grave site where he lives
All the while wonderin what the hell gives
And I ain’t jiving you I’m talkin square biz

Your ***** – my ***** – our *****’s gone
Out of pain and struggle our ***** was born
The object of ridicule and also scorn
Now the mention of his name only brings a yawn


(c) Copyright 2015. Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.

Gag gag and gargle
Draggin’ through the muck of
That place you said you’d never go back to
Screamin’ like a devil in the dark

The bump and grind of his *****
Bump and grind
Got you buckin’ backwards like a
Bulldog
But we both know you should’a’ never brought a dog
To a gun fight

Too late for tears darlin’
Bite lipped quivers never saved a soul
Can hear the fear in the breaks for sobs

The door to his apartment never beckoned
But you broke down the doors
Like you had something to prove
Bent you bilaterally like
The corner you backed yourself into

So perfect in your symmetry
Till you left me for him
Now you got the heart-sag
Jaw dropped
Dope fiend look

Tearing up at the sky
And the flowers
White powder pluggin up your nose holes
Can’t smell the **** on your knees now
Or the muck you got stuck in

You said I wasn’t as fun as he was
As he is
I never wanted to save you anyway
I just thought it was beautiful
The way you praised me for the things I say
And the way I say ‘em

Ya know
I got blasted backwards
By the backlash of you leaving
Kicked up so much dust in the rubble
And left me dizzy with the rumble
Of your feet fleeing the song of some ***** stomp
Headin’
Farther and farther away from safety

At least I was safe
I wasn’t bitter
Even my bite was gentle
Kind enough to remind you I still got teeth
But I won’t use ‘em

So before you leave me
Again
Take the burden
The baggage
The weight of my shoulders
The wait for the phone call sayin’ you finally
****** up and died on me
The mix tapes
The t-shirts
The memories of every moment my heart kept sayin’
“She won’t stay
But hold her for as long as she’ll let you”

Take it all
And go

Come the auroras and infinite landscapes –
     Tangents wrought outright constants,
     Parallels perched perpendicular outrights,

          So to call your ellipse,
          When the orbit’s outstretched
          Landing meetings where we’d at least
          Learn to alter tomorrow.

It’s stellar silly, and paths primordial,
     Leaving my layovers for the trials
     And abandoned, the moon’s to forever follow you;

          So to composed and formulae proofed
          Come the time you mother said,
          "He’s just a coma
          And dust best left forgotten."

Quit draggin’ me to space baby.

It's just about time you see..
Maybe love is not for me.
Could it be my nervous twitch?
Maybe it's my oxy itch.
Build yourself a padded room,
Big enough for him and you.
Straight jacket gray and used.
Cover up your bad tattoos.
Could It be the way you bailed?
I'm draggin on a coffin nail.
Sent our love away to fly.
But baby I still had to try.
Take it till it's not enough.
Moving on is not so tough.
So karma then would be your prize.
Chew it up with all the lies.
And the people that you thought you knew..
built an army who will despise you.

Don't try to hear me now.
How can silence be so loud?
Through everything I seem to fail.
I'm draggin on a coffin nail.

folks  
this is the last song of the evening  
time for one last round  
so pick 'em up and  
slam 'em down...  

couples headin'  
to the dance hall floor  
some lonesome doves  
walkin' out the door  
take a look around  
into the lonely fa-ces  
broken hearts  
yearnin' for tender gra-ces  

see the hopeful eyes  
lookin' back at you  
you've seen each other  
from across the room  
if you act now  
you wont be turned awa-y  
another day  
might be too la-te  
  
oh i know  
life ain't been kind  
we've got - wounded hearts  
but there's still time  
so - here's a chance  
ya never know  
tho it's  
just a dance  
it could be more
  
so ya  
take her hand  
pull her in real close  
music playin'  
soft and slow  
you close your eyes  
as she softly si-ghs  
  
starlit shadows  
from a disco globe  
we fade to black  
on this winding road  
lost and lonely  
we pay the toll  
just one last dance  
before we go  
just one last da-nce  
before we go  
  
and these bitter days  
we watch them waste away  
into the whiskey nights and  
the smoke filled haze  
we're singin'  
Willie -n- Waylon  
pray the music keeps playin'  
as we drift away  
into this whiskey haze  
shadows of a memory  
keep draggin' ya down  
one last round  
you slam it down  
you close your eyes  
as she soflty si-ghs  
gently swayin'  
across the floor  
  
starlit shadows  
from a disco globe  
we fade to black  
on this winding road  
lost and lonely  
we pay the toll  
just one last dance  
before we go  
just one last da-nce  
before we go

The Calm(before the Storm)

"It's not often these days that I get to relax,
see the Sandman I'm usually draggin an axe,
with my ex's new fella's head stuck on the spike,
cause it was cut the ******* like I was wielding a pike.
but today I'm very level,no need for medication,
turn the interwebs off,no need for *******.

Just me and my clan(the Irish version not the stupid one),
everyone is rollin one smokin one or lightin one,
flip the top off a bottle and contemplate a rattle,
with the lady of the hour all's fair in love and battle.

And this is nice....I like it when people don't flinch,
hear the singin of a Finch as I pinch another inch,
off the the J Jay handed me,a gentleman,a scholar,
lean to me left to pass it on to Mal another,
of the scientific,dapper rapper witty individuals,
that make up the collective that I'm part of,see our principles,
are the one thing that brought us all together,
completely different birds yet all of one feather-

as we feather the nest I smooth the hairs on me chest
and...relax...
cause its the eye of the storm,
time to take stock,huddle up and keep warm,
maybe huddles turn to cuddles as the music moves your feelings,
cause its a warm fuzzy feeling,underneath the same ceiling,
with me mates and me lover,I think I'll have another beer...

Of course I'll have another,
cause we're...safe now,for the moment at least,
from the big bad wolf hulk,the Sandman sleeps,
and while the cats away I can kick up my heels
enjoy the solitude that Skitz rarely feels,
cause the forecast's bleak,those clouds look like thunderstorms,
but just for five minutes I'm relaxed ahhhh...,its the calm before the storm."

It's killin' me,

the way you always
heed my silent becks
to the cat's cradle
for the dim-dusked
shimmyings we do,

for the middle of the courts
hopscotchin' we improv
in the
catacorner criss-crosses
we continue to let
splash
in the middle of our
bashing pool.

stakes are
brimstoned
high
this time-

higher than the dizzy chicks
with flower magic
stick-on things
not really covering their ******* -

their faith's got them
grinning down
proudly
to the matrix hubbub below,
from the drooping shoulders
of their guy bits
in matching flowers

('cause we're all one here
yeah? - yeah!).

tonka tricks
litterin' my walkway -
slinkin' around,
tryna play on with
the big cats -

instead,

just trippin' up my
flutter game -

chill out.

i mean,

i'm not complainin'
'bout the mess your
charcoal lashes keep
leavin'
after payin their
naughty boy dues
to them round things
just one step down -
makin' love to
the apples bobbin'
in cheeky
conversation.

i've kinda got this
cheshire thing goin' on -
the way my smile swells
too slowly for you -
showin' off whiffs of
those secret things

the ones i only hold onto to
to keep rattlin' your cage
with the big toys
i keep tellin' you
you can't have.

but
you keep
swimmin' in that pool
of excessive *****
traps
thinkin' there's a way
to ****** the magic
carpet from beneath my
bottom,

believing some dumbly
that your charcoal
is the only fire starter i'll ever want
markin' up my agenda.

you're screamin' a bit too loud
now, Cubby -
readin' to me the words
i can't see written across
my face.

I can't see 'em
without a mirror,
though i can feel the letters
being etched into my skin
with every flipped card
i wasn't
necessarily
tryin' to flip.

but, honey
i got cosmic dust
stored in my fingertips

a special
spunky mix
i like to throw down on
in the kitchen with
the sandman's concoctions -

plan A and plan B
it's a fight just to see in -
need to be prepared
for whatever is comin'.

though you ain't snatched
the rug yet,
i'm lollygaggin' on the
tip of the edge

my carpet's doin this
rufflin' thing -
and i'm slippin'.

you got me
colonizin' your corduroys
draggin' my stirred and ragged heart
behind me -
too sturdy and ambitious
in its wild-hearted
persistence.

gonna bust open
this fruit bloom, here
if it takes me all day
and all night.

I am
an ant,
looking for salvation
in big places.

Climb aboard the gravy train,
it was a boat,
but that got sunk
the pilot drowned
and he was drunk
so
didn’t feel a thing.

Bring some cigs and filter tips
I like to smoke them cool.

I have set some lips on fire
and blushed bright red at dawn
been naked on the altar
the day that I was born, but
I never tasted lips so keen as
those lips that taste of
Steve McQueen.

I guess that was her previous beau
I really ******’ hope so.

Rebellion – for too long the status quo,
is, in our day, a predictable show.
Antichrist irony, absurdity
shockingly daring incongruity
no longer shock the bourgeois, you know…

Alone in the temple of glass with a rock,
you’re out of traditional symbols to mock.
Surrealists did it much better than you –
and it meant a lot more in ’32.

You chew your cud on the cattle-wagon
overused shock-tactics (moo ! ) now draggin’
(or herding) aboard the iconoclast train
(b)lowing through boxcars your bovine refrain:
“to, um –  make people think…”  Oh Lord, how uncouth.
Nihilist narcissus – tell me, what’s Truth?
Must creative always be subversive?
I discern, in your frenzied discursive,
a dull and predictable lack of life.
While you brandish that plastic butter knife
I  seem to note, in your constant ******,
dearth of artistic ability.  Must
bohemian acolytes (some yawning)
ever be deer in the headlights, fawning
before the ironic gesture? It’s sad;
the bitter is sweet but the art is bad…

They circle hors d’oeuvres on opening night
like moths around white wine in candlelight,
cerebrating in a modernist void:
contemporary aesthetes, overjoyed
to know once more that life has no meaning;
the planet is doomed; that kings are queening;
that chic just arrived, escorting philosophy
(Forgive us, Duchamp, for all this monstrosity).

I long for Hudson River School sunsets
Old Dutch Masters, religious art, portraits,
Red, green, or black propaganda-art?  NO !
The view does not merit the price of the show.
I’m dada-ed to death, beyond the surreal.
Conceptual gimmicks have failed to conceal
your want of ability, values, and faith
In the book you despise it is written: “thus saith
the fool in his heart: that there is no God…”

You: Postmodern Art – **to the firing squad!

You inspire me to be better
Assertive like heaven
Positive vibes move subtle, etheric wheather
Though not as you think
Subtle like beyond view ;
vibe Grand like da right hand of the spectrum
Young driver but
Dis ain't my first vehicle
Sight like, first-eye wise
"Nanotangible"
O sumtm' of da direction
The blessing is
We can all share this space of awareness
If we step correct
No draggin
No shade
Upliftment
Sun rays
But the method take
A lil "calminuity"
Yeah I get fluid like da element
In the Magic of Creation
No disruption
No displacement
Focus like a blade being sharpened
Home is Presence

Wind the clock
Set it back
Way, way, back
Way back to times before.
Before the battle and after the war
Make it bright to see the light
Feel the pleasure
Feel the pain
Sun fades, moon wanes.
Everything stays the same
But keeps movin forward
Draggin feet on the carousel
Tryin to slow the movement.
Blind to the revolution.
The inevitable return
Closer to the end,
Closer to the beginning
Big bang, big crush
Babe in an incubator,
Old man in a respirator
Travel back to move forward
Return and arrive in the same instant
Fast or slow
As long as it moves
and doesn’t go anywhere
just don’t stop.
Crash! Break!
Break out of the circle
Fight against the tumultuous monotony
Of its suffocating embrace
Concentric circles
Drawing in closer and closer
To a cage in the middle
Walls are closing in
What is outside the circle?
Why can’t we get out?
Who are the gate keepers?
Where are they hiding?
How will we break through?
When will we be free?
Dark days and white knights
Lapping life from the doggy dish
Wearing the wind in our eyes
Think it’s a disguise
But truth is transparent
And the façade is opaque beneath
Get out of the circle
Break the line
Stand still and be delivered outside
Be free
But be wary
For outside lie perils unknown
Sanctity, Sacrifice, Solice
Found in the binding of
Saintly moments.
For it shall be
The summations  of good intentions
Which will break us out

This is happening more and more.
It’s ungodly early and we’re tripping on bricks
a pack of feckless teenagers still.
That never changed.
The tall one, skinny with rosy cheeks
and the eyes of a fighter
is holding loosely onto my hand
his nose won’t stop bleeding.

We follow the broad intimidating one
in a red sox hat,
he’s punching every stop sign we pass
and just hollering
how we’ll always stick together
you don’t mess with family
(I’ve known them all for three weeks)
his accent is getting thicker through his swollen lip.

In the rear the shorter one, but still much taller than me,
his hair stuck up in all directions
is still getting his breath back from that sock to the stomach.

We all love that frozen moment, when first punch turns to full on brawl.
Peter says even if you get hit, at least you’re feeling something.
We all taste like bourbon, cause this is the South now.

I’m draggin’ them home in my favorite blue skirt,
two heads shorter at least.
Saying, soon we’ll be home boys, I’ll fix you up then.
Because they’ll fight for me, I fight for them.
Saying stop punching public property, Paul and
Stevie, I’ve got you, don’t cry
The Pats are on tomorrow boys, and we’ve all got work to do.
just a little longer

I find family where I can these days.

some of the poems i read i'm afraid of, someone crude would call them mediocre, but i don't have a heart for such words, i'm afraid of them for a simple reason: they're so fragile - it's like handling porcelain with these miner's doughnut hands and thick hotdog fingers, you really don't know what to do with such poems, it's the body undressed, covered in goosebumps and very little else.

sure, you can experience love, the love that's
you and her back in Eden,
maddened, raw, you can experience that,
but such love exists between a boy who
has two years past the teens, and a girl
in her teens, the boy had to invest almost
the same amounts of slush puppy **** as she,
music wise, literature wise, ideals upon ideals,
love is idealised, *** is perfected,
you'll end up gravitating to other people's
expression whether true or fictional,
akin to *kisses sweeter than wine,
stop draggin' my heart around,
fade to black, it's all there, bloodhound
soppy eyes - a variation of some sort of psychic
awakening in alter-psychosis - the variation of
a juggernaut moving about, it's love pristine,
not the love we call petting and paying the bills,
it's a butterfly's wing caressing your ear
while it flutters - it doesn't last once truths
enter and realities condense to custard -
the paint dries on the wall, the Antarctic tundra
freezes and polar bears start hunting (well, you
could call them loan sharks if you wanted) -
when Adam's tonic turns into Sioux's anodyne -
Apache Sioux knew the deal, while others
use the anodyne for parties and uninhibited social
interactions, others sedate - a good enough
reason to forget that ol' wives tale of: better have
love and lost than not have loved at all -
yes, it's there, a bit like first impressions of
a poem for dada day at the place, april 1, 1958,
poems tell a different story, novels tell a different story,
movies tell a different story, asylum Hollywood
captures the imagination, but not necessarily the memory,
music tells a different story - and all converge and
diverge within geometry of circa - so love, mm,
barefooted going to the mosque for curry at the height,
scuttling like a **** head down Nicholson St. (Edinburgh),
past the music shop where once it was all smiles
and approving gestures while buying an album,
what was it? reggae k.k.k., ah right, steel pulse!
handsworth revolution - the same shop months later,
the same attendant of the pulse of music - the words
'if you want to find love, go to Germany', me guess that's
'cos of the accent, he Scot and me chameleon -
Heraclitus knew this flux, changes and changes -
all that and the creeping to the zenith before tumbling
into Milton's opening of satanic inquiry via
fleetwood mac's the chain - bass guitar the real star,
mirage of former glories of solo guitars - bass guitar
the conductor of rhythm - and in so writing, a fly
attracted to my "idle" hands - as they say, the devil
makes work of idle hands - the bass sets the rhythm,
the drums hush for a moment so the bass can be
protruding - great admiration for bands that allow
the bass a ray of sunshine - tool, schism; so yeah,
you can experience this fable of ancient greek
hierarchy - lovers poets prophets - but you have to
invest prior, and by way of chance you might -
slush puppy pop and ideals and ideals and ideals -
i could have went to Bristol, Warwick, Cardiff or Brighton,
instead, thanks to Mr. Thomas Boon'tss (wet snare tss,
sweat from a drummer, instigator of poet in me,
the observer, the shut-up guy, played a jailor in an adaptation
of the Merchant of Venice - skylock shy, frozen in
the reminder on v.h.s.) off to Haggis-land we went,
and found love there, and found inspiration,
and found an iron maiden for our head there too,
and found madness with a keen eye for tomorrow.

Feel my breath blowing like a gale , the gael without fail,
I inhale and exhale the flames of hell,
Born hellbent-repent!
you’re scurrying in gullies while I seek your Scent...
SNIFFFF-grrrrrrrr! -that’s the sound of doom,
You’re better off digging in a pharoh’s tomb,
No room to escape the breath that melts cold steel
You’re a rabbit in my headlights fear my moulten hot claws of steel,
I breathe oxygen and nitrogen to exhale the red hot blast to seal your fate,
Best debate, best berate, get your estate in order one blast of rhyme its all over.
You’re a scorchmark against a granite wall,
Been burnt to a crisp by the firestorm from hell,
Well welcome to hell do you feel the heat?
Sandman slim-dragon never fears defeat,
20 years here spittin’ in the underground,
Now its time to take place in the sound that’s found,
In an Irish no go area, the gates of Mordor,
The Irish Dragon - draggin you to a state of ******,
grrrr!-claws like claymore’s rake across your face
as I prepare to ignite,take flight,seal your fate...

He went around
and came around, and went around again~
Then he came around, went back around
and came around again.

"What's with all the run-around?"
I asked my breathless friend
"Guess what goes around, will come around
and right up to the end."

"But what's all this you're chasin, then?"
I asked the weary clown~
"Been chasin' all these wimin,
and they've yet to slow me down."

"Who runs this ride, you run beside,
and can't they cut the speed?"
"I have no clue, but maybe you
can jump this thing, and plead."

"One last run around, dear girl
take a ride and wait for me,
it won't be long, enjoy the song,
I'm a sick sorry son of a b."

I hopped aboard his dream machine
where ladies rode the poles
and pushed passed blown out ******
to the room which housed controls.

I peeked inside the window there
and much to my surprise
no one was manning anything
on this carousel of lies.

A sea of lovely lonelies
ride 'The Future' from the past
around again a few more times
our lives are fading fast.

Suddenly he's on the ground
and draggin' on his knees
with sweat upon his forehead,
I said, "*******, LET GO, please."

"One last run around, dear girl,
don't you worry none 'bout me
appreciate your deep concern
I'm a sick sorry son of a b".

Well, it took some major doing
to release his grip of fear
and then I jumped, and bruised and bumped
was finally in the clear.

"we've cashed in all our chips today,
but we'll be back, you see-
you push to run the Future
and I'm a freakin' fool for thee.

We hobbled from the Carn-evil,
my weary friend and me
what goes around will come around
dear God please set us free.

You may wonder why
I wait so long to write,
when it has long since
been knows that I would
every day.

I assure you it is not
because I am lazy,
although I can be,
but rather because
I am waiting to milk
every ounce of life
out of the day.

If I wrote you in the morning
my words would always be
be bold speaking of how
comfortable my bed is so early
and how I wish you were here with me.

If I wrote you in the afternoon
far too often I would write
in a more traditional fashion
of how I see so many people
and you are greater to me
than any of them.

If I wrote you in the evening
I would without meaning
subtly convey my weariness
towards the world and that
I long for your vibrant energy
to give me strength to start again.

But when I write you in the middle of the night,
when I feel alive of my own accord,
I can share with you the spirit
of this small fraction of life
and how it is always shifting,
constantly draggin me down
and pushing me back up
and how despite all of it,
you are the last thing I think of
so that I may ensure pleasant dreams.

Sick of all these hoes trying to put on shows trying to make jokes b* I don't need your woes. trying to keep my head up above ground before I go down, you need to sit down cuz I'm about to f* drown trying to drag me down. Be fronting with your fake smiles and all the Wiles you just trying to leave me in the wake.
You don't know me I spent seven years in abstinence trying to make sense of all this f* nonsense. you be acting like I'm Satan u's so ungrateful you don't even know how to giv thanks. But you don't know me back the f off me spent my teenage years flying to New York trying to give support to all those people in 9/11, lost souls gone to heaven.  raised hundreds and thousands of f dollars for all those people trying to holler, drowning in Hurricane Katrina well I'm right there trying to feed ya. but you say money don't mean s but you be begging for it when you down and out cuz u spent it all on f* **** and *******. You think I got no compassion I think you're just looking to someone for slashin. you want to put me down you want to cut me down watch out cuz next time I come round it's going to be a knock-down. You think I'm crazy I think you're just f lazy trying to blame others for all your woes b* quit trying to put on a show. I was right there at your door trying to give you more all you can say is b* you a *****. The sad part about it is that you're not the first to come out with it trying to act like you the Queen of the castle well I'm about to wrastle you for that throne cuz b* I've grown. You don't know s bout me spent years in Hawaii saving kids from drowning so b* quit your clowning. Why u always got to be fronting why you got to test me, *** if im just a wretch arrest me already. if I'm such a horrible person, a devil in Disguise then I am my own demise. So quit trying to drag me down because I already be down. But you don't f* know me you just trying to show me what I lack it's alright I come back in full swing to attack let's go tear up that f ring. UC when you got nothing to lose everything becomes your Muse. I got nowhere to go no one to see I lost everything I'm at rock bottom I'm at f** it, so this Rucker about to become a ruckus. You trying to take from me my name you trying to take from me my pride watch out ***** I swing wide.
U disgust me with all this negativity, it's making me sick, stop now cuz I got a mean tic

Baby can you handle this
Life on the edge I see the end with every kiss
Baby will you die for me
If I die will you ****** scream
Needle in my arm
Love note saying that I'm sorry i just loved you to much
I'm just ****** up now I'm gone
I know you don't like it when I'm on this ****
I got so much music in my soul maby I can sell it to the world
My words in there steros and I'm telling em all
**** it live life to the fullest till you ****** die
It could be tommorow
Baby I just wanna smile
Baby will you smile
Baby ****** smile with me
Theses wounds cut deep
I live a life you don't understand
I'm what you want but can you really handle who I am
I want shiny things and tattoos on my body so I ain't gotta say **** I can talk with my skin
Tattoo ink like a script you gotta question
Take a minute and get educated
Go to the left hand find the *******
Now notice how there's no more ***** for me to give my finger is feeling limp
So I'll just use my lips
**** society please baby run away with me
we can make each other's happiness a priority
First goal every day is to see your beautiful face lookin at me smiling
Xanax takes my memory's so baby please stay next to me
my vibe is heavy in my soul like a cupple tabs of lsd
I can feel you brightinin my world
Can you see me changin
can you see me changin
I'm trying but **** chaingin causes pain n I'm in the passing lane lookin out my passenger window
At myself
I can see the past in my face and the pain ive felt  
My life been ****** up who shuffled this deck what kinda hand I been delt
I got every thing I ever had,
and every thing I'ma ever gonna make, invested in this life
How they gonna stand there and watch me burn it like dryed leaves soaked in gasoline that we stand around in the fall to stay warm with homies while we kickin it
light some **** an have a cupple drinks
80 on the freeway we ain't speedin cuz honestly I got some product in the trunk
Selling ain't cool and it ain't easy
Even tho I know I could just go to work an make that cheese extra cheesy just cuz I got a lil guzmen in me.
These streets stay yellin at me in my daydreams
Talking bout the city in a drought flip a brick make a grip  
and get some fiends to rely on your buisness
At least when I'm weighin the work someone gonna be expectin me
and they smilin when I arrive
**** people been dreadin my presence my whole life at least drugs make me the one they wanna see
Baby im alive right now
I cant speak on next year **** I can't even promise you next week
Cuz when it comes to being about it fo yo homies yo family and yo friends then they say anything disrespectful and they likely ta catch lead
Body shots are Target practice we aimin for they head
Twenty five to life is what they tryina give us in tha 208
Half a zip of Crystal and they talkin life with without
man I was ony 21
Said if I told em three dealers above me I could catch probation and go free
**** that **** I run around with real gangsters take yo head off your shoulders
If you got loose lips round us you gonna learn
We catch an OP we spread the word
That black and white already been sent ta everyone ya heard
you aint aloud to play no more sorry but you broke the rules
If my mouth woulda opened right now I wouldn't be breathing
My paper work come correct you better believe it
**** y'all draggin my name in the mud
I been solid since I was to Young to be doin this ****
Girl if you wit me you gotta stay solid onehundred percent
Everything is handled in house we don't dial 911
unless we need a doctor or somethings burnin up
**** twelve they wanna see me hurting
**** twelve
They want wanna catch me serving to
these fiends but just these crack heads waiting till I can't supply
then they giving up my name to 5-O just ta keep themselves on they level
Chasin that high is like running from the devil
But he got a leash chokin you till you bowin down at his knees
Life lived
life wasted  
Life on the edge
**** it let's see the world I wanna make it
This my world I'ma do what I wanna y'all gonna know my name I'ma top shotta dumb dotta
**** around fall in love with the life you see around ya
Stay with me girl we gonna take a million dolla
Make it 4 times that over night
******* that grind baby so you can kick back and enjoy life
Shoppin in hollywood on rodeo drive
red carpet pictures capturin the moments we together in life
I'm fascineted by your body
Far from ordinary baby your unique
Can you handle this
Life on the edge I can see the end with every kiss
Baby will you die for me
If I die will you ****** scream
Baby will you live life like the end is already happening
Treasure every moment **** what ever all thoes losers think
They say I'm wastin away
Druggin my life down the drain
Well let's be honest here my name is Dennis drain so pour your liquor dump your dope out let me take it all to the head
I can barely breath I might have just OD'd
I think I just OD'd
If you find me and I can't breath
Baby will you scream for me
Baby I'm sorry this is how you ever had to see me
Live life like I showed you **** what hurts deep inside
find beautiful places an people with smiling faces integrate with there minds to create a place on this world to sit down and just think
Even in the darkness of what comes after my last heart beat
Your memory will keep
My soul feeding off your energy
seeing you and me close
back when it was back then
Ya know not just in my head
But here in reality baby this is where I can feel your every breath
In a mansion smilin with cash
dressed in the latest fasions
Millions of people saying they fans of what I create
I changeed they lives with the music I made
I hope that this dream comes true cuz I'ma promise you that when it do
I'ma bring you wit me we gonna be rich like we filthy
swimmin in bills wit blue faces all hundreds no 20s no 50s
But if these dreams come up short and I'm stuck in this place will you stick with me
here on this dead end street
Is a 9 to 5, Makin 17.50 enough for your beautiful body to wanna come closer to mine
We might rent forever may never own a house
and I might go away for some time you might have to wipe them tears from your face
It's ok still crying
I love you
your mine
Put a smile on you mouth
Even when it hurts girl
If I'm wit you or i bounced
In the penatentry or on the couch
you what makes me smile baby girl and don't you ever forget that
Be mine till the end of time
But only if you won't regret that
When we find the end we can build on till infinity can't streach any more
Every moment till the moments finley find the end and we are no more
In reality or my memory cuz time took what I love away from me
baby you best
Baby  come close  I'ma hold you in my arms untill you tell me to let go
keep ya warm like toast  
butter yo bread when we in bed
hope you like the way I make you feel when I give you my passion
hopefully you see that this kinda ectasy don't just happen
I'm tryin my best to keep you feeling happy
Mind body and soul
Make yo body thirst for me
Girl I know yo smile only works for me
I see theses other women they looking good
but you the only one I wanna dance for me
Stop doubting your beauty it's not attractive to hear such a goddess of a women doubt the power of her attraction
Yo eyes catch mine and the police might as well of pulled out a 9
Cuz i cant move
I'm stuck on you
Baby can you handle this
Life on the edge I can see the end with every kiss
Baby will you die for me
If I die will you ****** scream
If I die I swear you'll be my endless dream
Baby baby please let's take life like it's drugs and do this **** together
feel the euphoria like we the same soul forever
They can't handle this **** that we doin
We don't fit the mold so baby we just out here bein different
They don't like that
they stay trippin
Can you handle me baby it's ok if you can't
Just let me know what it is you looking for in a man
If I can't give you what you want than I'll let you go
Cuz your happiness is what warms my soul
Even if it ain't with me
Every time I wake up weather its late afternoon or early morning
Depending on what I been dosing
Depression holdin on to me an I know I'm hard to love
But even when you with some other man if you cracking a smile
Everything goin good
you got money and a place to live
Then I'm smilin wit you I hope one day I'll meet yo kids
The world could die if you and I could float forever in space
with each other in the endless expanses of space
I hope we float around an never age never feel hunger
never feel pain
Fill each other with happiness an fix the broken thangs
Baby I know we just met so maby I'm crazy I really don't know yet
But I'ma offer you my heart you can have it
If the blood scares you
you can turn off the lights and feel it beat in your hand
Feel the energy and power every beat you feel sitting in the darkness
Baby I'm here for you
and every moment your with me I lose grip on reality
your the drug I want
just please forgive my evil deeds my past is full of terrible things
I try and keep that stuff down deep but it comes to say hello sometimes **** I hate it when these memories figure out how to make catchy rhymes
and when it does happen please don't think any less of me
I'm slowly changing please believe
I'ma be honest I'ma always do me
Sometimes doin me means sacrificing things
Things I love
Things I can't put a price on easily
my freedom is worth to much by itself
Now add YOU to my list of things they take from me if I go back to county and ******* I don't wanna go in that cell
"**** twelve"  police ain't **** catch me at the red light if you can
I'm quick to split soon as them red and blues start to flick
I want the love you show me to hold me when I sleep
**** thin blue mats and cold concreat
My body aches an I miss that cute twiching you do when you finally slip into your dreams
Can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me that I'm who you wanna spend every moment you got left breathing in this life with
I know things don't always work out and we may never make to marriage and kids
But no matter what every word I've said I've meant
It's crazy cuz we just meet but I'm just kinda that way
Meet you one day the next I don't wanna let you go
I guess I'm kinda clingy but I'm blaming you an the way you sitting there with a blank stare licking your lips
I wanna hold you by your hips
Kiss you everywhere an feel your body twitch
So I'ma stay close play it by ear till you tell me to leave or we've been a thing for a cupple a years so it's kinda clear we a thing not a fling
were long lasting not just a quick  burst of hormones and physical addictions
I wanna feel you in every way but I wanna sit down and talk about your day
You were gone and I wasn't there
I miss you no put up your hair I like it when you use words to massage the parts of me that I only share with you
No matter what you being alive makes me wanna live life
It makes me wanna see the world
Cuz baby girl you make it easier to breath  
but at the same time my breath is short
I'm feeling light in the head
An weak in the knees
These feelings are intoxicating
A needle in my vain full of quality drugs can't match the moment you enter the room
Please baby come in leave and come right back into my heart
Every time I see your face after your dose of beauty has been outta my grasp even for just uno, dos, ... ****
thoes two seconds couldn't pass fast enough
I look you up and down I love your face your body is so perfectly curvy
Your outline got me followin the lines like I'm doin geometry
Girl you could make a man fall in love with math
I wanna find the angle you at when I'm holding yo ***
You catching feelings girl yea I know
Me an you we falling hard
we so hot our passion mealtin yards of snow at Christmas time
Green lawns in the winter months
We lounging like it's mid July
Sittin in a quiet place where it's easy to appreciate our own vibes
Can you feel me livin inside
I'm the reason that your heart keeps a smile
You the reason that my days go by to fast
Every moment with you is delicious I just want an order of it
Now super size it I want these feelings ta be never endin
Takin pictures now cuz in this life don't nothin last
I wanna look back and see how we used to act
baby can you handle this
Baby can you handle me
Life on the edge I see the end with every kiss
Baby will you die for me
If I die will you ****** scream
aint pay **** for it I got it all for free
Got home opened up the bag
Looked in to see your eyes starin back at me  
Used your vibes to fill a 100 CC IV
Baby please swim trough my veins
can feel the beat to my life
can you Bob yo head to the sounds when I live and breath
the notes inside my head keep me from fallin dead  
Every beat carry's  my soul and passion can you taste it
it's thick in the recipe they used to creat me
a mixture of insanity and passion
Someone please add a little common sense to to the mix it might help make a happier ending
I got the bravery but sometimes I just do
I don't always think and that's what's gonna tear me away from you
In a concreat cell that I can't even get up in without my feet freezing under me.
I make these dumb decisions when  I'm faced with two people opposing me
Mine or there's
So either you handle business or get punked out like you was raised buy some *******
I can't sit back and let these lames run they jaw
like they about they business
we throwing hands no question so baby I apologize If they start talking that **** and I ki one of them *******
I aint askin you to lie
I'm just asking you if you really about bein mine
Cuz if you were then you would stay solid hold back the fear and uncertinty
and tell all thoes people that wanna put me away
that I ain't do nothin that I'm innocent
and I'll tell the world that I love you till the very end
If you feel like you can't keep my secrets
Plz just do what your heart tells you is the right decision
cuz the truth will set you free
in that position it'll give me 25 years to think
25 years away from you
25 years away from me
25 years that I lose myself trying to find you inside my head
25 years to replay memories from the short time you been Makin my world seem brightened like your my sun your existing  decides if I live or die
Your memories never fade
I keep them in my mind on replay
Over and over in my head
slower and slower but still they move to fast
Glimpses of the recent past  that I wish my hardest would never pass
Baby can you handle this
Life on the edge I see the end with every kiss
Baby will you die for me
Baby if I die will you ****** scream
Baby if I die tear your ****** vocal coards to peices singing this song on the top of the world
high as **** with your last **** down at the bottom in the scared little girl you left behind when you came home with me
let my name echo in the world baby
I wanna be heard
I want my memory to burn into the minds of the ones who are just like me
BHC
Black hoodie crew yea that's till death make a generation follow my every breath
I want you to be with me
when they introduce my crazy *** to the world you that's listning
When I have thousands of fans and my name they scream
I want you next to me
Baby shine with me
When it gets dark and your alone remember that I ****** love you and justbe greatfull that I was
once asked  to spread words that create lifestyles
lyrics that give people hope in the world even when your seeing shadows
I want people to wanna be me and I want them to want you cuz I have you and they can't you love me
Cuz they love what I stand for and you stand next to me girl
BABY CAN YOU HANDLE THIS????

I got all i need
and i dont care
for anymore
your success
invaded
my failure

no measure for time
spinning wheels
gaining no ground
love draggin me down
in regret
in denial

i could grow and show
you how worthy
i am

but there would
not be a ripple
a stumble
or
second glance

ive grown used
to getting around
unnoticed
unwatched