Fier comme un Ecossais.

If a’ that I can be’s nae mair
Than what mankind’s been yet, I’ll no’
Begink the instincts thistlewise
That dern—and canna show.

Damned threids and thrums and skinny shapes
O’ a’ that micht, and su’d, ha’ been
—Life onyhow at ony price!—
In sic I’ll no’ be seen!

Fier comme un Ecossais.

The wee reliefs we ha’e in booze,
Or wun at times in carnal states,
May hide frae us but canna cheenge
The silly horrors o’ oor fates.

Fier—comme un Ecossais!

 

from A Drunk Man Looks at Throbbing Thistle