To a Mouse

Scotland's favorite son Robert Burns would be 250 years old this year, so there is a lot of buzz about the dear man. And for good reason! He was a prolific and gifted writer/philosopher whom we continue to admire and respect; one of Scotland's literary treasures. Hopefully all the hoopla surrounding the anniversary of his birth will spark a renewed interest in his poetry beyond Scotland, as well as bring some tourist money to their country.

On a side note, I read there is a feature film in the works on the life of Robert Burns and apparently Gerald Butler is playing the lead. No offence to Butler who is a fine actor (like the character Christine I was completely taken by him in the Phantom of the Opera), but he's just too over the top Hollywood handsome for the part. Butler does not have to say a word for one to want to jump his bones. It's distracting (albeit in a nice way) and completely misses the core essence of Rabbie Burns. Burns was a nice looking man yes, but it was WHAT he said and HOW he said it that reaches women even in the year 2009. Burns "dearly lov'd the lasses, O" but he was so much more than a poet chasing skirts as he is often portrayed. My pick to play him would be James McAvoy, who is perhaps the best actor of his generation. McAvoy has amazing depth and believability and physically just looks more like Burns. (I was completely smitten, as I think all women are regardless of age, by James McAvoy in Becoming Jane.) Perhaps they offered him the role and he wasn't available. Too bad. It is a cinematic movie after all, not a documentary, so they will undoubtedly focus on Burns' womanizing and not on his amazing writing. I do not envy Gerald Butler, as he has big shoes to fill so I will get off my soap box and wish him well.

But I digress...to my main reason for this post.

To A Mouse presented by David Sibbald of www.robertburns.plus.com set to photos of Scotland. (Seeing the Twin Towers and aftermath rubble is a bit heartwrenching.)



It helps to read along. :))

To A Mouse by Robert Burns
On turning her up in her nest with the plough, November 1785.

Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty
Wi bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murdering pattle.

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 wi' the lave,
An' never miss't.

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's win's ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.

That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turned out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld.

But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

Still thou are blest, compared wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But och! I backward cast my e'e,
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

At first glance and beyond, the old Scots dialect is a foreign language difficult to dicipher, but it is also oddly somewhat familiar. Once you get accustomed to the sound, it flows so beautifully and you cannot imagine Burns' poetry written or spoken any other way. Professor Stacy explains this insightful poem for those of us who speak in American dialect. His lecture is wonderful as I think even Scots would agree.



Ok, so on a much less serious note, and because I really, really, really love a good laugh, here's Craig Ferguson: