Selected Poems and Songs, by Robert Burns

I am by no means a poet nor am I a connoisseur of poetry.  I have posted here before works by Robert Frost as, from time to time, I do appreciate a good poem.  It's important to slow down sometimes and take in the world around us, isn't it?

This past spring, I spent some time with another poetic Bob:  Robert Burns (Scotland, mid-late 1700s).  Overall, I have to say that I enjoy Frost more than Burns due, in no small part, to the fact that I can understand his writing better...literally.  American Frost always writes in English whereas Scottish Burns writes sometimes in English, sometimes in his native Scottish dialect.

For those of you who haven't seen or aren't familiar with Scots, consider the classic New Year's anthem, Auld Lang Syne (by Robert Burns).  Do any of you have an effing clue what that song is about?  Probably not, but I'll give you a hint:  it is a nostalgic piece about a time long past (or, for those of you familiar with my niece/goddaughter, "a long day ago").

Fortunately, the publication that I read included a Scots-English glossary in the back, but flipping back and forth in an already hefty volume made for rather cumbersome reading.  I didn't actually finish the entire book but, to be fair, I probably wouldn't have anyway.  I can't read a book of poetry cover to cover, can you?

I picked a few poems to read here and there throughout this publication, but three stood out to me.  I'll share these with you here:

A POET'S WELCOME TO HIS LOVE-BEGOTTEN DAUGHTER
The first instance that entitled him to the venerable appellation of Father

[Context:  Burns wrote this poem after the birth of his first child -a daughter named Elizabeth- who was born out of wedlock.  He had rather a notorious reputation as a floozy but, despite being the product of such scandalous actions of the day, Burns adored his baby girl.  Sadly, he never married her mother and baby Elizabeth was eventually raised by Burns's mother, after her (Elizabeth's) own parents married other people.  Nevertheless, as a weathered parent myself, I found this poem to be rather sweet and touching as it was written by a young, brand-new dad...and some things never change with the passing of the centuries.]

Thou's welcome, wean; mishanter fa' me,
If thoughts o' thee, or yet thy mammie,
Shall ever daunton me or awe me,
My sweet wee lady,
Or if I blush when thou shalt ca' me
Tyta or daddie.

Tho' now they ca' me fornicator,
An' tease my name in countra clatter,
The mair they talk, I'm kend the better,
E'en let them clash;
An auld wife's tongue's a feckless matter
To gie ane fash.

Welcome! my bonie, sweet, wee dochter,
Tho' ye come here a wee unsought for,
And tho' your comin' I hae fought for,
Baith kirk and queir;
Yet, by my faith, ye're no unwrought for,
That I shall swear!

Sweet fruit o' monie a merry dint,
My funny toil is no a' tint,
Tho' thou cam to the warl' asklent,
Which fools may scoff at;
In my last plack thy part's be in't
The better ha'f o't.

Tho' I should be the waur bestead,
Thou's be as braw and bienly clad,
And thy young years as nicely bred
Wi' education,
As onie brat o' wedlock's bed,
In a' thy station.

Wee image o' my bonie Betty,
As fatherly I kiss and daut thee,
As dear and near my heart I set thee
Wi' as gude will
As a' the priests had seen me get thee
That's out o' hell.

Lord grant that thou may aye inherit
Thy mither's person, grace, an' merit,
An' thy poor, worthless daddy's spirit,
Without his failins,
'Twill please me mair to see thee heir it,
Than stockit mailens.

For if thou be what I wad hae thee,
And tak the counsel I shall gie thee,
I'll never rue my trouble wi' thee -
The cost nor shame o't,
But be a loving father to thee,
And brag the name o't.

EPISTLE TO A YOUNG FRIEND (MAY 1786)

[Context:  Advice to a young friend named Andrew Hunter Aiken, the son of another recipient of Burns's poetry dedications (Robert Aiken, The Cotter's Saturday Night).  Burns demonstrates a familiarity with other literary works in this poem, including a reference to Shakespeare's Hamlet.  Offering counsel to a friend that we, looking in the proverbial rearview mirror, might give to our own, younger selves.]

I Lang hae thought, my youthfu' friend, A something to have sent you, Tho' it should serve nae ither end Than just a kind memento: But how the subject-theme may gang, Let time and chance determine; Perhaps it may turn out a sang: Perhaps turn out a sermon. Ye'll try the world soon, my lad; And, Andrew dear, believe me, Ye'll find mankind an unco squad, And muckle they may grieve ye: For care and trouble set your thought, Ev'n when your end's attained; And a' your views may come to nought, Where ev'ry nerve is strained. I'll no say, men are villains a'; The real, harden'd wicked, Wha hae nae check but human law, Are to a few restricked; But, Och! mankind are unco weak, An' little to be trusted; If self the wavering balance shake, It's rarely right adjusted! Yet they wha fa' in fortune's strife, Their fate we shouldna censure; For still, th' important end of life They equally may answer; A man may hae an honest heart, Tho' poortith hourly stare him; A man may tak a neibor's part, Yet hae nae cash to spare him. Aye free, aff-han', your story tell, When wi' a bosom crony; But still keep something to yoursel', Ye scarcely tell to ony: Conceal yoursel' as weel's ye can Frae critical dissection; But keek thro' ev'ry other man, Wi' sharpen'd, sly inspection. The sacred lowe o' weel-plac'd love, Luxuriantly indulge it; But never tempt th' illicit rove, Tho' naething should divulge it: I waive the quantum o' the sin, The hazard of concealing; But , Och! it hardens a' within, And petrifies the feeling! To catch dame Fortune's golden smile, Assiduous wait upon her; And gather gear by ev'ry wile That's justified by honour; Not for to hide it in a hedge, Nor for a train attendant; But for the glorious privilege Of being independent. The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip, To haud the wretch in order; But where ye feel your honour grip, Let that aye be your border; Its slightest touches, instant pause Debar a' side-pretences; And resolutely keep its laws, Uncaring consequences. The great Creator to revere, Must sure become the creature; But still the preaching cant forbear, And ev'n the rigid feature: Yet ne'er with wits profane to range, Be complaisance extended; An atheist-laugh's a poor exchange For Deity offended! When ranting round in pleasure's ring, Religion may be blinded; Or if she gie a random sting, It may be little minded; But when on life we're tempest driv'n A conscience but a canker - A correspondence fix'd wi' Heav'n, Is sure a noble anchor! Adieu, dear, amiable youth! Your heart can ne'er be wanting! May prudence, fortitude, and truth, Erect your brow undaunting! In ploughman phrase, "God send you speed," Still daily to grow wiser; And may ye better reck the rede, Then ever did th' adviser!

NINE INCH WILL PLEASE A LADY

[Context: Y'all know what this is about. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw this amidst beautiful works like the previous two samples I've given, but there aren't a lot of ways to interpret this...declaration. Anyway, I couldn't stop laughing because bros be bro-ing, since time immemorial.]

Come rede me, dame, come tell me, dame,
My dame, come tell me truly,
What length o' graith, when weel ca'd hame,
Will ser'e a woman duly?
The carlin clew her wanton tail,
Her wanton tail sae ready;
I learn't a sang in Annandale,
Nine inch will please a lady.

But for a countrie cunt like mine,
In sooth we're nae sae gentle;
We'll tak' twa thumb-bread to the nine,
And that's a sonsie pintle.
O leeze me on my Charlie lad!
I'll ne'er forget my Charlie!
Twa roarin' handfu' and a daud,
He nidg't it in fu' rarely.

But weary fa' the laithern doup,
And may it ne'er ken thrivin';
It's no the length that gars me loup,
But it's the double drivin'.
Come nidge me Tam, come nodge me Tam,
Come nidge me o'er the nyvle;
Come louse and lug your batterin' ram,
And thrash him at my gyvel.

Click here for a side-by-side translation of this work into English. 

A softer side; a dose of nostalgia; a bawdy song for dudes.  Three starkly different poems, all by the same writer.  Whether he is doting on his little princess, offering advice to a young friend, or being gross, Robert Burns certainly has a way with words.  

MINDBODY: The Mindbody Prescription, by John E. Sarno, MD // The Mindbody Workbook (Vol. 2), by David Schechter, MD with Justin Barker, PsyD

I've been busy over the past couple of years.  In October 2023, I started experiencing pain in my right hip and the ball of my left foot.  The following month, I developed pain in the ball of my right foot.  In subsequent months, the pain extended to my left hip, both heels, both foot arches, and my right ankle.  I was a mess.  Three surgeries, hundreds of labs, blood draws, and imaging tests later, I am sloooooooowly finding my way back to something resembling normal.  I have a ways to go yet, but I finally have more of a direction.  This leaves me feeling less...untethered.

I stumbled upon the Curable app some time ago when I saw an infographic on Instagram about chronic pain and our neural pathways.  It really resonated with me, so I'm sharing it here.  Please look at it; it's very much worth your while.

CURABLE INFOGRAPHIC

I wasn't willing to throw money at something that could end up being snake oil, so I found that they had a podcast that was free - the right price!  I spent some time listening to a few episodes that I'd cherry-picked for my situation and found one in particular to be eerily striking. The guest on the episode described a very similar scenario with nearly mirror symptoms to my own and he mentioned a particular book and workbook that were his gateway to understanding these concepts.  This seemed like a more reasonable starting place to me -purchasing a couple books, after all, won't break the bank- so I did.  And boy, am I glad.

I first bought (and completed) The Mindbody Workbook (Volume Two), by David Schechter, MD and Justin Barker, PsyD.  

This was an incredibly informative resource for me that served as an excellent guide to journaling and reflection on my emotions.  As I neared the end, I looked to this workbook to guide me in what to do next.  Among a long list of other recommended books and gurus in the field of mindbody medicine, one name resounds as the father of the field:  Dr. John Sarno.

Sarno published a number of books before his death several years ago, but I felt that the one that would be most appropriate for my needs was the general guide to mindbody symptoms/conditions.  The Mindbody Prescription: Healing the Body, Healing the Pain is considered one of the proverbial Bibles to this approach.

Sarno's work began in studying chronic back pain and, while his work is certainly illuminating in that very specific field, he later discovered that chronic mindbody symptoms were not limited only to the back.  This kind of pain can (and does) appear everywhere in the body and, sometimes, it's not pain at all.  Sarno suggests that even conditions like digestive issues, allergies, and Raynaud's (all things that affect me) could be due to mindbody disorders.  Maybe yes, maybe no, but I see no harm in considering this possibility.  As a book, The Mindbody Prescription can get rather technical at times, but I can hang.  While I would recommend it to someone suffering from any type of chronic pain that has been enigmatic to biomedical practitioners, I know that the type of personality (e.g. mine!) that is prone to mindbody symptoms can easily become frustrated by the pedantic nature of the book.  Perhaps knowing that ahead of time -and accepting that certain parts may be tricky to follow without an extensive background in researching the medical terms used- is enough to get folks like myself through the muck and mire of a book that can occasionally be as extraneous as this longass sentence.

The bottom lines:

• Both of the above books are excellent resources that I'd strongly recommend for anyone who experiences "unexplained" chronic symptoms.
• After finishing the workbook, I joined Curable.  I use the app regularly for education, meditation, and journaling prompts.  It's great and I like the bite-sized exercises that users can access as often as needed/desired.
• After finishing the Sarno book, I joined Curable's classes/groups.  It's an additional subscription charge (boo!) but it gives me access to classes (both live and pre-recorded), support groups with "people like me", and is still far less expensive than one-on-one therapy.  So far, it has been quite cathartic.
• I love learning.  This journey has been so very fascinating in a number of ways and I'm grateful to know what I know.  (I just wish it had been on someone else's body, not mine!)  I hope I never need to share this knowledge with loved ones but, if I do, it's there and I'm ready to blather on to anyone who will listen.  
• I hate that I'm in this situation and have needed to learn what I have learned but an education is one thing that no one can take away from you.
• I have hit some very low points over the past couple of years but I am steadily coming back.  To be sure, I have had wonderful support from friends and family -without whom much of my progress would have been far more difficult (or even impossible)- but I credit myself with the vast majority of what I have accomplished, learned, and conquered.  Not doctors.  Not surgeons.  Not nurses.  Not physical therapists.  Not acupuncturists.  Not specialists.  Not even family or friends.  Me. 
• All of this has given me a great level of appreciation for myself and what I can withstand because I am fucking resilient, not to mention a goddam delight.
• Sometimes hope can be forced, phony, and toxic.  And it's OK to let go of it and embrace the darkness when you need to do that.  Well-meaning people who tell you not to give up hope are rarely those who have had reason to.  And if they have, well then they must be unicorns and good for them or whatever.  But they are not you, and you do what you want.  Plus, they probably lack the highly intelligent but dark sense of humor that you have, so they will never find the idea of having a life-threatening illness in a system that is designed to keep us sick as hilarious as it is.  Their loss.

Still a work in progress...but aren't we all until we die?

Arsène Lupin: Gentleman-Cambrioleur (Gentleman-Burglar), by Maurice Leblanc

Bonjour, mes amis!  Autrefois, pendant cet hiver passé en fait, j'ai donné un cours de français où on lisait un roman ensemble:  Arsène Lupin: Gentleman-Cambrioleur.

Did you catch that?  Si oui - très bien, je vous félicite.  Sinon - well, don't worry about it. 😉

Translation:  Hello, my friends.  Awhile back, during this past winter actually, I taught a French class where we read a novel together:  Arsène Lupin: Gentleman-Burglar.

As both of you know, I am a French teacher.  I teach college/grad level content for an international (though non-accredited) institution, mainly for people who simply love to learn.  It's a great gig and I love my job.  We have three annual "school year" sessions that meet weekly and, during the Winter Session, I like to either read a novel or watch a TV series together, discussing various chapters/episodes each week in class.  At the request of a regular student of mine, we read this novel together - and it was a lot of fun!

For those of you not familiar with the character, Arsène Lupin is the star of his own series of short stories by Maurice Leblanc.  Set during the turn of the 20th century, Lupin is a criminal mastermind, a charming, rakish thief who makes his way around the world (usually Europe, but he comes to the US at least one time), mainly stealing jewels and baubles and money off of the wealthier classes.  Sometimes he is bested, but he always works his way out of it with his wit and a crew of faithful followers.  A master of disguise with a laundry list of aliases, Lupin has no shortage of tricks up his sleeve to change his appearance and identity, as he often does.

Maurice Leblanc penned his stories slightly after -and also contemporaneously with- the publication of stories starring another turn-of-the-century mastermind: Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.  In fact, Arsène Lupin crosses paths with a one "Herlock Sholmès" on occasion.  They are rather each other's opposites (one being a thief, the other a detective), but share a great deal in common (brilliant minds, a love for puzzles, bleeding narcissism).  Of course, as the creator of Arsène Lupin, author Maurice Leblanc favors his own brainchild and Lupin bests "Herlock".

While the stories certainly have a similar feel to those of Sherlock Holmes, the anti-hero reigns supreme here.  Some stories are humorous, others less so.  Lupin is definitely not a "good person", but he does have redeeming qualities and a backstory that elicits empathy from the reader.  He rather calls to mind the image of Hercule Flambeau from the BBC series Father Brown.  (From my understanding, the character of Flambeau is portrayed rather differently on the series from his original version in the G.K. Chesterton books of the same title.  Lupin reminds me somewhat of a younger version of the TV portrayal of Flambeau.)

Hercule Flambeau, Father Brown on BBC

The edition we read together in class was a dual-language one, featuring the original French text alongside its American-English translation.  We quickly learned that the translation was not spot on, much to our annoyance.  Still, for readers of a second language, having quick-access reference to translations can be useful as it does not disrupt the flow of reading as much as having to seek a dictionary translation would.

All in all, Arsène Lupin: Gentleman-Cambrioleur makes for a fun, escaping read.  It isn't high brow or particularly difficult, but fun all the same for lovers of the genre.

Bonne lecture!