페이지 이미지
PDF
ePub
[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Robert Burns, „the Ayrshire poet“, var født 1759 i Grevskabet Ayr i det sydvestlige Skotland. Han var Søn af en Farmer og tilbragte det meste af sit korte Liv ved Ploven, Faderen sendte ham til Grevskabets Skole, hvor ban fik god Undervisning af en theologisk Kandidat, og han var i det Hele en for sin Stilling vel belæst Mand, selv fremmede Sprog ikke undtagne. Da det ikke vilde gaa med hans Jordbrug, havde han, som saa mange Skotter, besluttet at forsøge sin Lykke i den nye Verden, og for at skaffe sig Reisepenge foranstaltede han efter sine Venners Raad en Samling af sine Digte, som indtil den Tid mest havde cirkuleret i Afskrifter paa Landsbygden. Denne Digtsamling udkom i Dumfries 1786 og vakte strax i Skotlands bedste Kredse en stor Interesse for ham. Han modtog en Indbydelse til Edinburg, og her udkom i 1787 en ny Udgave af hans Digte, som ved hans Velynderes store Subskriptioner indbragte ham mange penge (700 Lstrl.). Fra Edinburg vendte han tilbage til Ayrshire, giftede sig og forpagtede en Gaard i Nærheden af Dumfries. Men hvad han i Skotlands Hovedstad havde seet og nydt af den store Verden, gjorde ham utilfreds med hans beskedne Kaar, og en ansættelse i Toldfaget, som Ministeren Dundas, hans Landsmand, skaffede ham, forbedrede ikke hans Omstændigheder, formedelst det uregelmæssige Liv, hvortil denne Stilling gav Anledning. Han døde i Dumfries 1796, 37 Aar gammel.

Burns var en ægte Digternatur, som kun skildrer, hvad han selv virkelig bar oplevet og følt. Den Kreds, hvori han bevæger sig, er ikke af stort Omfang: Kjærlighed, Frihed, Skotlands Natur og gamle Minder, deriblandt en trohjertig Hengivenhed for det gamle Kongehus, alt skildret med Dygtighed, Friskhed og Sundhed i Tanke, Motiv og Udtryk. Hans Digtning var en Fortsættelse og videreførelse af den gamle Folkepoesi, som i hans Fædreland havde holdt sig frisk og skabende paa en Tid, da denne Digtning ellers var forstummet. Han siger selv, at en Samling af ældre og nyere skotske Digte (af James Watson fra Aarhundredets Begyndelse) var hans poetiske Vademecum: „I pored over them driving my cart, or walking to labour, song by song, verse by verse, carefully noting the true, tender, or sublime from affectation or fustian“. Den store Popularitet, hans Digte opnaaede, strax de bleve kjendte, have de siden beholdt, og mange engelske Poeter have gaaet i Skole hos ham, men uden at naa Mesteren,

De fleste af Burns' Digte ere forfattede i den skotske Dialekt, en Blanding af Engelsk med skotske Provincialismer, og denne Benyttelse af to forskjellige Sprogformer gav ham en stor Fordel i hans Digtning. Han bruger den skotske Dialekt især, hvor han vil lægge en større Inderlighed i Udtrykket, eller ogsaa hvor han vil frembringe en komisk Virkning; til de alvorlige Partier anvender han den rene engelske Sprogform.

Med Hensyn til Udtalen af de skotske Ord og Ordformer, som forekomme i Burns' Digte, er Følgende at mærke:

1. A (sædvanlig skrevet a') i Enden af Ord lyder som engelsk aw: a', al, fa', falde, wa, Væg (som a i de tilsvarende engelske Ord all, fall, wall); wha (engl. who) som engelsk whaw.

2. Ae udtales som engelsk ay: gae, engl. go, nae, engl. no, sae, engl. so, wae, engl. woe (lydende som ay i gay, nay, say, way).

3. Ey og ei lyder pmtrent som vort „ei“: fey, feig (hvis Død er nær forestaaende), quey, Kvie, a-gley, skjevt, forkjert, a-beigh, i forsigtig Afstand. Dog betegner ei ogsaa undertiden vort „i“, saaledes langt i deil, Djævel, kort i meikle (ogsaa skrevet mickle), stor.

4. Eu omtrent som vort „u“: pleugh, Plov (om gh og ch se ndfr.), cranreuch, Barfrost, Steuart som engl. Stewart.

5. Oo eller ui betegner en Lyd, som ligger mellem vort „y“ og „0“ (mest nærmende sig til ,@“): loof, den flade Haand (n. Diall. „Love“, engl. palm), smoor, kvæle, dæmpe (engl. smother), coost, kastede; muir, Mose (norsk Myr, engl. moor), guid, god (med kort Vokallyd).

6. Ou (i lang Stavelse) lyder som vort „u“: thou, du, housie, lidet Hus, mousie, liden Mus.

7. Ow som vort „au“: knowe, Høi, Bakke, lowe, Lue, lowp, springe, hoppe (engl. leap), nowte, Nød, Hornkvæg.

8. Ch og gh udtales som det tyske „ch“: och, ak, pibroch, Krigssang, Marsch, dochter, Datter, night, Nat (som tysk „Nächt“), pleugh, Plov (som tysk „Pluch“, men ogsaa uden Strubelyden, og skrives da plew).

[ocr errors][merged small]

1. JOHN ANDERSON MY JO. John Anderson my jo, John,

John Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent, We clamb the hill thegither, Your locks were like the raven, And mony a canty day, John,

Your bonnie brow was brent; We've had wi' ane anither: But now your brow is bald, John, Now we maun totter down, John,

Your locks are like the snaw; But hand in hand we 'll go; But blessings on your frosty pow, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo.

John Anderson my jo.

2. BONNIE LESLEY. O saw ye bonnie Lesley

The deil he could na scaith thee, As she gaed o'er the border?

Nor aught that wad belang thee; She 's gane, like Alexander,

He'd look into thy bonnie face, To spread her conquests farther. And say, »l canna wrang thee!«

To see her is to love her,

And love but her for ever;
For Nature made her what she is,

And never made anither!

The powers aboon will tent thee;

Misfortune sha’ na steer thee; Thou 'rt like themselves sae lovely,

That ill they 'll ne'er let near thee.

Thou art a queen, fair Lesley,

Return again, fair Lesley,

Thy subjects we, before thee; Thou art divine, fair Lesley,

The hearts o' men adore thee.

Return to Caledonie!
That we may brag we hae a lass

There 's nane again sae bonnie.

3. HIGHLAND MARY. Ye banks and braes and streams around How sweetly bloom'd the gay green The castle o' Montgomery,

birk, Green be your woods, and fair your How rich the hawthorn's blossom, flowers,

As underneath their fragrant shade Your waters never drumlie!

I clasp'd her to my bosom! There simmer first unfauld her robes, The golden hours on angel wings And there the langest tarry;

Flew o'er me and my dearie; For there I took the last fareweel For dear to me as light and life

O’ my sweet Highland Mary. Was my sweet Highland Mary.

1

Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace | Oh pale, pale now, those rosy lips, Our parting was fu' tender;

I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly! And pledging aft to meet again, And closed for aye the sparkling glance We tore oursels asunder;

That dwelt on me sae kindly; But, oh! fell Death's untimely frost, And mouldering now in silent dust

That nipt my flower sae early! That heart that lo'ed me dearly! Now green's the sod, and cauld 's the But still within my bosom's core That wraps my Highland Mary! (clay, Shall live my Highland Mary.

4.

DUNCAN GRAY.
Duncan Gray cam here to woo, For a haughty hizzie dee?
Ha, ha, the wooing o't,

She may gae to

France for me! On blythe yule night when we were Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Ha, ha, the wooing o't. [fou, Maggie coost her head fu' high, How it comes let doctors tell, Look'd asklent and unco skeigh, Meg grew sick as he grew heal; Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh; Something in her bosom wrings, Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

For relief a sigh she brings;

And O, her een, they spak sic things! Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd; Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig; Duncan sigh'd baith out and in,

Duncan was a lad o' grace; Grat his een baith bleert and blin', Ha, ha, the wooing o't; Spak o' lowpin o'er a linn!

Maggie's was a piteous case; Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Duncan could na be her death, Time and chance are but a tide, Swelling pity smoord his wrath; Slighted love is sair to bide; Now they 're crouse and canty baith; Shall I, like a fool, quoth he,

Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

5.

BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY AT

BANNOCKBURN.

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has often led;
Welcome to your gory bed,

Or to victorie!

Wha for Scotland's king and law,
Freedom's sword will strongly draw;
Free-man stand, or free-man fa'?

Let him follow me!

Now 's the day, and now 's the hour; By oppression's woes and pains!
See the front o' battle lour;

By your sons in servile chains !
See approach proud Edward's pow'r – We will drain our dearest veins,
Chains and slaverie!

But they shall be free!

Wha will be a traitor-knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?

Let him turn and fee!

Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!

Let us do, or die!

6. THE HIGHLAND WIDOW'S LAMENT. Oh! I am come to the low countrie, I was the happiest of a' the clan, Och-on, och-on, och-rie!

Sair, sair may I repine;
Without a penny in my purse,

For Donald was the brawest man,
To buy a meal to me.

And Donald he was mine.

It was na sae in the Highland hills,

Och-on, och-on, och-rie!
Nae woman in the country wide

Sae happy was as me.

Till Charlie Steuart cam' at last,

Sae far to set us free;
My Donald's arm was wanted then

For Scotland and for me.

For then I had a score o'kye,

Och-on, och-on, och-rie!
Feeding on yon hills so high,

And giving milk to me.

Their waefu' fate what need I tell,

Right to the wrang did yield: My Donald and his country fell

Upon Culloden-field.

And there I had three score o' yowes, Ochon, O, Donald, Oh!
Och-on, och-on, och-rie!

Och-on, och-on, och-rie!
Skipping on yon bonnie knowes, Nae woman in the warld wide
And casting woo' to me.

Sae wretched now as me.

7. TO A MOUSE,
On turning her up in her nest with the plough, November, 1785.

Wee, sleekit, cow'rin', tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,

Wi' bickering brattlel
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,

Wi murd'ring pattle!

[ocr errors]

I 'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion

Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor earth-born companion,

An' fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave

's a sma' request:
I 'll get a blessin' withe lave,

An' never miss't!

« 이전계속 »