voor Christina's pub

It was indeed wonderful to walk through the streets of Ayr, where all the drama of Burns's poem played off,and we also had a wine at a pub with my name!
But everything to do with Tam o'Shanter was intrigueing , and to stand on the bridge where he and his horse were supposed to have just escaped the groping hands of the witches, gave a whole new side to the poem.
Here then a short piece, as the whole poem is way to long to put on the blog

When chapman billies leave the street,
And drouthy neibors neibors meet,
As market days are wearing late,
And folk begin to tak the gate (go home)
While we sat bousing (boozing) at the nappy,
And getting fou and unco happy,
We think na on the long Scots miles, (don't think)
The waters, mosses, slaps and stiles,
That lie between us and our hame (home)
Where sits our sulky sullen dame,
Gathering her brows like gathering storm,
Nursing her wrath, to keep it warm.
.
Then it goes on about his angry wife:

She prophsied that late or soon,
You would be found, deep drown'd in Doon,
Or catch'd with warlocks in the mirk
By Alloway's old haunted church.

I just loved to listen to the Scotch on a Burns night, when everyone in the group visiting the hotels would have a few lines, and they bring over the phantasy of the whole thing so fantastically that I could listen to it the whole night, although sometimes I just couldn't understand some of the things, but as the years went by, the language and different dialects fell easier on my ears.