Weekly Interlinear Poem







This is the poem
for the week of June 1.
A new interlinear poem
is available each Monday.

Send me e-mail - robert15115@gmail.com
Robert Jackson

Welcome to a Bastard Wean

-Robert Burns


Thou's welcome, wean! Mishanter fa' me,
wean=weanling (young child)
Mishanter fa' me=mishap befall me

If thoughts of thee or yet thy mammie
yet=moreover/in addition
Shall ever daunton me or awe me,
daunton=daunt
My sweet, wee lady,
Or if I blush when thou shalt call me
Tyta or daddie!
tyta=dada (?)

What though they call me fornicator
And tease my name in country clatter?
The more they talk, I'm known the better.
E'en let them clash!
An old wife's tongue's a feckless matter
To give one fash.
fash=annoyance

Welcome, my bonnie, sweet, wee daughter!
Though ye come here a wee unsought for
And though your coming I have fought for
Both church and choir,
Yet, by my faith, ye're not unwrought for --
unwrought for=easily produced
That I shall swear!

Sweet fruit of many a merry dint,
dint=blow/tumble
My funny toil is not all tint.
tint=joyous
Though thou came to the world asklent,
asklent=askew
Which fools may scoff at,
In my last plack thy part's be in it
plack=penny
thy part's be in it=thy share will be in it

The better half of it.

Though I should be the worse bestead,
bestead=placed
Thou's be as braw and bienly clad
braw and bienly clad=fine and well clothed
And thy young years as nicely bred
With education
As any brat of wedlock's bed
In all thy station.
station=status in life

Wee image o' my bonnie Betty,
As fatherly I kiss and daut thee,
daut=caress
As dear and near my heart I set thee,
With as good will
As all the priests had seen me get thee
As all the priests had seen me get thee=As if all
the priests (in Hell) had ritually overseen
my begetting of thee

That's out of Hell.

God grant that thou may ay inherit
ay=ever/indeed
Thy mother's looks and graceful merit
And thy poor, worthless daddie's spirit
Without his failins!
'Twill please me more to see thee heir it
heir=inherit
Than stocket malings.
stocket malings=stocked farms

And if thou be what I would have thee
And take the counsel I shall give thee,
I'll never rue my trouble with thee --
The cost nor shame of it --
But be a loving father to thee
And brag the name of it.
name="father"

Thou's welcome, wean! Mishanter fa' me
If thoughts of thee or yet thy mammie
Shall ever daunton me or awe me,
My sweet, wee lady,
Or if I blush when thou shalt call me
Tyta or daddie!

What though they call me fornicator
And tease my name in country clatter?
The more they talk, I'm known the better.
E'en let them clash!
An old wife's tongue's a feckless matter
To give one fash.

Welcome, my bonnie, sweet, wee daughter!
Though ye come here a wee unsought for
And though your coming I have fought for
Both church and choir,
Yet, by my faith, ye're not unwrought for --
That I shall swear!

Sweet fruit of many a merry dint,
My funny toil is no all tint.
Though thou came to the world asklent,
Which fools may scoff at,
In my last plack thy part's be in't
The better half of it.

Though I should be the worse bestead,
Thou's be as braw and bienly clad
And thy young years as nicely bred
With education
As any brat of wedlock's bed
In all thy station.

Wee image o' my bonnie Betty,
As fatherly I kiss and daut thee,
As dear and near my heart I set thee,
With as good will
As all the priests had seen me get thee
That's out o' Hell.

Gude grant that thou may ay inherit
Thy mother's looks and graceful merit
And thy poor, worthless daddie's spirit
Without his failins!
'Twill please me more to see thee heir it
Than stocket mailins.

And if thou be what I would have thee
An' take the counsel I shall give thee,
I'll never rue my trouble with thee --
The cost nor shame of it --
But be a loving father to thee
And brag the name of it.