Robert Burns

Gender: 
Male

  • Korai még a konty nekem

    Gyöngécske lány vagyok még,
    ijeszt is fű-fa uram;
    férfi ágyában engem
    a hideg rázna, uram.

    Korai még, korai még,
    korai még a konty nekem,
    korai még... bűn lenne ám,
    ha elcsavarná a fejem.

    Anyám varratta új ruhám,
    templomba mék...

  • Address to the Toothache

    My curse upon thy venomed stang,
    That shoots my tortured gums alang;
    An’ through my lugs gies mony a twang,
            Wi’ gnawing vengeance!
    Tearing my nerves wi’ bitter pang,
            Like racking engines.

    When fevers burn, or ague freezes,...

  • The Banks o’ Doon

    Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon,
      How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
    How can ye chant, ye little birds,
      And I sae weary, fu’ o’ care?

    Thou ’lt break my heart, thou warbling bird,
      That wantons through the flowering thorn;
    Thou minds me o...

  • Bannockburn

    [June 24, 1314]
    SCOTS, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,
    Scots, wham Bruce has aften led;
    Welcome to your gory bed,
        Or to victorie.

    Now ’s the day, and now ’s the hour
    See the front o’ battle lour:
    See approach proud Edward’s power,—...

  • “My heart ’s in the Highlands”

    My heart ’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
    My heart ’s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
    Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe.
    My heart ’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.
    Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
    The birthplace...

  • A Bard’s Epitaph

    Is there a whim-inspirèd fool,
    Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule,
    Owre blate 1 to seek, owre proud to snool; 2
            Let him draw near,
    And owre this grassy heap sing dool,
            And drap a tear.

    Is there a bard of rustic song,...

  • For a’ That and a’ That

    Is there for honest poverty
      Wha hangs his head, and a’ that?
    The coward slave, we pass him by;
      We dare be poor for a’ that.
    For a’ that, and a’ that,
      Our toils obscure, and a’ that;
    The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,—
      The man ’s...

  • Tam O’ Shanter

    A Tale
     “Of Brownyis and of Bogilis full is this Buke.”
    —GAWIN DOUGLAS.    

    WHEN chapman billies leave the street,
    And drouthy neebors neebors meet,
    As market-days are wearing late,
    An’ folk begin to tak the gate;
    While we sit bousing at the...

  • To a Mouse

    On Turning Her up in Her Nest with the Plough, November, 1785

    WEE, sleekit, cowerin’, timorous beastie,
    O, what a panic ’s in thy breastie!
    Thou needna start awa sae hasty,
              Wi’ bickering brattle!
    I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee,...

  • To a Louse

    On Seeing One on a Lady’s Bonnet at Church

    HA! whare ye gaun, ye crawlin’ ferlie?
    Your impudence protects you sairly:
    I canna say but ye strunt rarely
            Owre gauze an’ lace;
    Though, faith! I fear ye dine but sparely
            On sic a place....