A luvin’ wumman is a licht*
That shows a man his waefu’ plicht,
Bleezin’ steady on ilka bane,
Wrigglin’ sinnen an’ twinin’ vein,
Or fleerin’ quick an’ gane again,
And the mair scunnersome the sicht
The mair for love and licht he’s fain
Till clear and chitterin’ and nesh
Move a’ the miseries o’ his flesh….

O lass, wha see’est me
As I daur hardly see,
I marvel that your bonny een
Are as they hadna’ seen.

Through a’ my self-respect
They see the truth abject
-Gin you could pierce their blindin’ licht
 You’d see a fouler sicht!…

 

*Suggested by the French of Edmond Rocher

from A Drunk Man Looks at Throbbing Thistle