Haggis Address / Burn’s Night /Scottish Nights
Robert Burn’s enjoyed Haggis so much that he decided to write a poem about this gorgeous delicacy! As a result, Haggis became Scotland’s national dish and on Burn’s night (Rabbies Birthday, on or around the 25 th of January) every year the recital of his poem, ‘Address tae a Haggis’ is key to the Burn’s Supper celebration. This is not exclusive to Burns night however and recitals can be arranged to accompany, Scottish nights, Weddings, Special events, Corporate occasions and Media events. Colin will confidently Pipe the haggis in to your event and then recite the famous poem in a unique and authentic manner as demonstrated in the video. If you like the video I would appreciate it if you gave it a thumbs up.
Robert Burn’s ‘Address tae a Haggis’ (1787)
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!
Aboon them
a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye worthy o' a grace
As lang's
my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad
help to mend a mill
In time o need,
While thro your pores the dews distil
Like amber
bead.
His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing
entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!
Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till
a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
The auld Guidman, maist like
to rive,
'Bethankit' hums.
Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad
mak her spew
Wi perfect scunner,
Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank
a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Thro bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his
walie nieve a blade,
He'll make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like
taps o thrissle.
Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o fare,
Auld Scotland
wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies:
But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,
Gie
her a Haggis!
Rab Burns, 1787