The munelicht is my knowledge o’ mysel’,
Mysel’ the thistle in the munelicht seen,
And hauf my shape has fund itsel’ in thee
And hauf my knowledge in your piercin’ een.

E’en as the munelicht’s borrowed frae the sun
I ha’e my knowledge o’ mysel’ frae thee,
And much that nane but thee can e’er mak’ clear,
Save my licht’s frae the source, is dark to me.

Your acid tongue, vieve lauchter, and hawk’s een,
And bluid that drobs like haill to quicken me,
Can turn the mid-day black or midnicht bricht,
Lowse me frae licht or eke frae darkness free.

Bite into me forever mair and lift
Me clear o’ chaos in a great relief
Till, like this thistle in the munelicht growin’,
I brak in roses owre a hedge o’ grief….

from A Drunk Man Looks at Throbbing Thistle