Читать книгу The Canongate Burns - Robert Burns - Страница 23

First published in the Kilmarnock edition, 1786

Yes! let the Rich deride, the Proud disdain,

The simple pleasures of the lowly train:

To me more dear, congenial to my heart,

One native charm, than all the gloss of art.

GOLDSMITH.

‘The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake of those unaquainted with the manners and traditions of the country [region] where the scene is cast, notes are added, to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry of the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such honour the author with a perusal, to see the remains of it, among the more unenlightened in our own.’

To this headnote, Burns defines Halloween thus: ‘Is thought to be a night when Witches, Devils, and other mischief-making beings, are all abroad on their baneful, midnight errands: particularly, those aerial people, the fairies, are said, on that night, to hold a grand anniversary.’

R.B.

Upon that night, when Fairies light

On Cassilis Downans1 dance,

Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze, over, fields

On sprightly coursers prance;

5 Or for Colean the rout is taen, Culzean, taken

Beneath the moon’s pale beams;

There, up the Cove2, to stray and rove,

Amang the rocks and streams

To sport that night:

10 Amang the bonie winding banks,

Where Doon rins, wimplin, clear; runs, winding

Where BRUCE3 ance ruled the martial ranks, once

An’ shook his Carrick spear;

Some merry, friendly, country-folks

15 Together did convene,

To burn their nits, an’ pou their stocks, nuts, pull

An’ haud their Halloween hold

Fu’ blythe that night.

The lassies feat, an’ cleanly neat, trim

20 Mair braw than when they’re fine; more fair

Their faces blythe fu’ sweetly kythe show

Hearts leal, an’ warm, an’ kin’: loyal, kind

The lads sae trig, wi’ wooer-babs so spruce, love-knots

Weel-knotted on their garten; well, garters

25 Some unco blate, an’ some wi’ gabs very shy, chatting up

Gar lasses’ hearts gang startin make, go beating

Whyles fast at night. sometimes

Then, first an’ foremost, thro’ the kail, cabbage-plot

Their stocks4 maun a’ be sought ance; shall, once

30 They steek their een, an’ grape an’ wale close, eyes, grope, choose

For muckle anes, an’ straught anes. big ones, straight ones

Poor hav’rel Will fell aff the drift, half-witted, lost the way

An’ wandered thro’ the Bow-kail, cabbage

An’ pow’t, for want o’ better shift, pulled

35 A runt, was like a sow-tail, small cabbage stalk

Sae bow’t that night. so bent

Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane, straight, dirt, none

They roar an’ cry a’ throu’ther; pell-mell

The vera wee-things, toddlin, rin very children, run

40 Wi’ stocks out-owre their shouther: -over, shoulder

An’ gif the custock’s sweet or sour, if, pith

Wi’ joctelegs they taste them; knives

Syne coziely, aboon the door, then, comfortably, above

Wi’ cannie care, they’ve plac’d them gentle

45 To lye that night. lie

The lasses staw frae ’mang them a’, stole, from, among them all

To pou their stalks o’ corn;5 pull

But Rab slips out, an’ jinks about, dodges

Behint the muckle thorn: large

50 He grippet Nelly hard an’ fast; gripped

Loud skirl’d a’ the lasses; screamed

But her tap-pickle maist was lost, top amount mostly

Whan kiutlan in the Fause-house6 when cuddling, corn drier

Wi’ him that night.

55 The auld Guidwife’s weel-hoordet nits7 old, good-, well-hoarded nuts

Are round an’ round divided,

An’ monie lads’ an’ lasses’ fates many

Are there that night decided:

Some kindle couthie, side by side, warm comfortably

60 An’ burn thegither trimly; together

Some start awa wi’ saucy pride, away

An’ jump out-owre the chimlie -over, fireplace

Fu’ high that night.

Jean slips in twa, wi’ tentie e’e; two, watchful eye

65 Wha ’twas, she wadna tell; who, would not

But this is Jock, an’ this is me,

She says in to hersel:

He bleez’d owre her, an’ she owre him, over

As they wad never mair part; would, more

70 Till fuff! he started up the lum, chimney

And Jean had e’en a sair heart sore

To see’t that night.

Poor Willie, wi’ his bow-kail runt, cabbage stalk

Was burnt wi’ primsie Mallie; prudish

75 An’ Mary, nae doubt, took the drunt, no, huff

To be compar’d to Willie:

Mall’s nit lap out, wi’ pridefu’ fling, nut leaped

An’ her ain fit, it burnt it; own foot

While Willie lap, an’ swoor by jing, jumped, swore with conviction

80 ’Twas just the way he wanted

To be that night.

Nell had the Fause-house in her min’, corn drying structure

She pits hersel an’ Rob in; puts

In loving bleeze they sweetly join, heat/flame

85 Till white in ase they’re sobbin: ashes

Nell’s heart was dancin at the view;

She whisper’d Rob to leuk for’t: tasted

Rob, stownlins, prie’d her bonie mou, stealthily, kissed, mouth

Fu’ cozie in the neuk for’t, snugly, corner

90 Unseen that night.

But Merran sat behint their backs, Marion

Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;

She lea’es them gashan at their cracks, gabbing, conversation

An’ slips out by hersel:

95 She thro’ the yard the nearest taks,

An’ to the kiln she goes then,

An’ darklins grapet for the bauks, darkness, groped, cross-beam

And in the blue-clue8 throws them, yarn

Right fear’t that night.

100 An’ ay she win’t, an’ ay she swat, winded, sweated

I wat she made nae jaukin; bet, no delay

Till something held within the pat, pot/kiln

Guid Lord! but she was quakin! shaking

But whether ’twas the Deil himsel,

105 Or whether ’twas a bauk-en’, end of a beam

Or whether it was Andrew Bell,

She did na wait on talkin not

To spier that night. inquire/find out

Wee Jenny to her Graunie says, grandmother

110 ‘Will ye go wi’ me, Graunie?

I’ll eat the apple9 at the glass,

I gat frae uncle Johnie:’ got, from

She fuff’t her pipe wi’ sic a lunt, puffed, such, smoke

In wrath she was sae vap’rin, so, agitated

115 She notic’t na an aizle brunt not, cinder, burnt

Her braw, new, worset apron good, worsted/twisted yarn

Out thro’ that night.

‘Ye little Skelpie-limmer’s-face! hussy

I daur ye try sic sportin, dare, such

120 As seek the Foul Thief onie place, any

For him to spae your fortune: foretell

Nae doubt but ye may get a sight! no

Great cause ye hae to fear it; have

For monie a ane has gotten a fright, many, one

125 An’ liv’d an’ died deleeret, delerious/insane

On sic a night. such

‘Ae Hairst afore the Sherra-moor, one harvest before

I mind’t as weel’s yestreen, well as yesterday

I was a gilpey then, I’m sure young girl

130 I was na past fyfteen: not

The Simmer had been cauld an’ wat, summer, cold, wet

An’ Stuff was unco green; corn

An’ ay a rantan Kirn we gat, rollicking, harvest, got

An’ just on Halloween

135 It fell that night.

‘Our stibble-rig was Rab M’Graen, leader of the reapers

A clever, sturdy fallow; fellow

His Sin gat Eppie Sim wi’ wean, son, got, child

That lived in Achmachalla:

140 He gat hemp-seed,10 I mind it weel, got, well

An’ he made unco light o’t;

But monie a day was by himsel, many

He was sae sairly frighted so sorely

That vera night.’

145 Then up gat fechtan Jamie Fleck, got fighting

An’ he swoor by his conscience, swore

That he could saw hemp-seed a peck; sow

For it was a’ but nonsense:

The auld guidman raught down the pock, old good-, reached, bag

150 An’ out a handfu’ gied him; gave

Syne bad him slip frae ’mang the folk, then, bade, from

Sometime when nae ane see’d him, no one, sees

An’ try’t that night.

He marches thro’ amang the stacks, among

155 Tho’ he was something sturtan; staggering

The graip he for a harrow taks, garden-fork

And haurls at his curpan; drags, rear

And ev’ry now and then, he says,

‘Hemp-seed I saw thee, sow

160 An’ her that is to be my lass

Come after me, an’ draw thee

As fast this night.’

He whistl’d up Lord Lenox’ March,

To keep his courage cheery;

165 Altho’ his hair began to arch, stand with fear

He was sae fley’d an’ eerie; so frightened

Till presently he hears a squeak,

An’ then a grane an’ gruntle; groan, grunt

He by his shouther gae a keek, shoulder gives, look

170 An’ tumbl’d wi’ a wintle somersault

Out-owre that night. over

He roar’d a horrid murder-shout,

In dreadfu’ desperation!

An’ young an’ auld come rinnan out, old, running

175 An’ hear the sad narration:

He swoor ‘twas hilchin Jean M’Craw, halting

Or crouchie Merran Humphie — hunchback

Till stop! she trotted thro’ them a’;

An’ wha was it but Grumphie who, the pig

180 Asteer that night? moving about

Meg fain wad to the Barn gaen, content, would have gone

To winn three wechts o’ naething;11 dry corn, baskets, nothing

But for to meet the Deil her lane, all alone

She pat but little faith in: put

185 She gies the herd a pickle nits, gives, shepherd, few

An’ twa red-cheeket apples, two, -cheeked

To watch, while for the Barn she sets, goes

In hopes to see Tam Kipples

That vera night. very

190 She turns the key wi’ cannie thraw, gentle, twist

An’ owre the threshold ventures; over

But first on Sawnie gies a ca’, Satan, gives, call

Syne bauldly in she enters: once boldly

A ratton rattl’d up the wa’, rat, wall

195 An’ she cry’d, Lord preserve her!

An’ ran thro’ midden-hole an’ a’, dung-hole

An’ pray’d wi’ zeal and fervour

Fu’ fast that night.

They hoy’t out Will, wi’ sair advice; urged, sore

200 They hecht him some fine braw ane; promised, fine one

It chane’d the Stack he faddom’t thrice,12 fathomed

Was timmer-propt for thrawin: wood stacked, support

He taks a swirlie, auld moss-oak twisted, old

For some black gruesome Carlin; old hag

205 An’ loot a winze, an’ drew a stroke, cursed, swiped

Till skin in blypes cam haurlin shreds, peeling

Aff’s nieves that night. off his fists

A wanton widow Leezie was,

As cantie as a kittlen; lively, kitten

210 But Och! that night, amang the shaws, among, large leaves & branches

She gat a fearfu’ settlin! got, severely unsettled

She thro’ the whins, an’ by the cairn, gorse bushes

An’ owre the hill gaed scrievin; over, went careering

Whare three Lairds’ lands met at a burn,13 where

215 To dip her left sark-sleeve in shirt-

Was bent that night.

Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, whiles over, waterfall, burns falls

As thro’ the glen it wimpl’t; meandered

Wyles round a rocky scaur it strays, jutting rocky edge

220 Whyles in a wiel it dimpl’t; whiles eddy

Whyles glitter’d to the nightly rays, reflected

Wi’ bickerin, dancin dazzle; running fast

Whyles cookit underneath the braes, whiles hid

Below the spreading hazel

225 Unseen that night.

Amang the brachens, on the brae, ferns, hillside

Between her an’ the moon,

The Deil, or else an outler Quey, stray young cow

Gat up an’ gae a croon: got, gave, moan

230 Poor Leezie’s heart maist lap the hool; almost leaped, sheath

Near lav’rock-height she jumpet, lark-flying level, jumped

But mist a fit, an’ in the pool missed a foot

Out-owre the lugs she plumpet -over, ears, plummeted

Wi’ a plunge that night.

235 In order, on the clean hearth-stane, -stone

The Luggies14 three are ranged; dishes

And ev’ry time great care is taen taken

To see them duly changed:

Auld uncle John, wha wedlock’s joys, old, who

240 Sin Mar’s-year15 did desire, since

Because he gat the toom dish thrice, got, empty

He heav’d them on the fire

In wrath that night.

Wi’ merry sangs, an’ friendly cracks, songs, conversation

245 I wat they did na weary; know, not

And unco tales, an’ funnie jokes, wondrous

Their sports were cheap an’ cheary:

Till butter’d Sow’ns,16 wi’ fragrant lunt, sour oat pudding, steam

Set a’ their gabs a-steerin; tongues, wagging

250 Syne, wi’ a social glass o’ strunt, whisky

They parted aff careerin off/away

Fu’ blythe that night.

Mackay’s edition omits the poet’s detailed notes to this work. They serve to assist the general reader in understanding the superstitious rural beliefs associated with Halloween. Due to the broad Scots language of the poem and its description of various superstitious rituals associated with peasant belief, much of the poem is unintelligible without the poet’s notes as in the Kilmarnock edition. Kinsley (no. 73) gives the notes but without indicating that they are Burns’s. The prose explanations of Burns reveal another example of his extraordinary talent for turning prose into poetry within the body of Halloween.

1 Cassilis Downans – Certain little, romantic, rocky, green hills, in the neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Cassilis. R.B.

2 A noted cavern near Colean [Culzean] House, called the Cove of Colean; which, as well as Cassilis Downans, is famed, in country story, for being a favourite haunt of the fairies. R.B.

3 The famous family of that name, the ancestors of ROBERT, the great Deliverer of his country, were Earls of Carrick. R. B.

4 The first ceremony of Halloween, is, pulling each a Stock, or plant of kail. They must go out, hand in hand, with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet with: its being big or little, straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape of the grand object of all their Spells – the husband or wife. If any yird, or earth, stick to the root, that is tocher, or fortune; and the taste of the custoc, that is, the heart of the stem, is indicative of the natural temper and disposition. Lastly, the stems, or to give them their ordinary appellation, the runts, are placed somewhere above the head of the door; and the Christian names of the people whom chance brings into the house, are, according to the priority of placing the runts, the names in question. R.B.

5 They go to the barnyard, and pull each, at three several times, a stalk of oats. If the third stalk wants the ‘top-pickle’, that is, the grain at the top of the stalk, the party in question will come to the marriage bed anything but a Maid. R.B.

6 When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being too green or wet, the stack- builder, by means of old timber, &c., makes a large apartment in his stack, with an opening in the side which is fairest exposed to the wind: this he calls a ‘Fause-house’. R.B.

7 Burning the nuts is a favourite charm. They name the lad and lass to each particular nut, as they lay them in the fire, and acccordingly as they burn quietly together, or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the Courtship will be. R.B.

8 Whoever would, with success, try this spell must strictly observe these directions: Steal out all alone, to the kiln, and, darkling, throw into the pot a clew of blue yarn; wind it in a new clew off the old one; and, towards the latter end, something will hold the thread: demand Wha hauds?, i.e. Who holds? And answer will be returned from the kiln-pot, by naming the Christian and Sirname of your future Spouse. R.B.

9 Take a candle and go alone to a looking glass; eat an apple before it, and some traditions say, you should comb your hair all the time; the face of your conjugal companion, to be, will be seen in the glass, as if peeping over your shoulder. R.B.

10 Steal out unperceived and sow a handful of hemp-seed, harrowing it with anything you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat, now and then – ‘Hemp-seed I saw [sow] thee, hemp-seed I saw thee; and him (or her) that is to be my true love, come after me and pou thee’. Look over your left shoulder, and you will see the appearance of the person invoked, in the attitude of pulling hemp. Some traditions say, ‘Come after me, and shaw thee’, that is, show thyself; in which case, it simply appears. Others omit the harrowing, and say, ‘Come after me, and harrow thee.’ R.B.

11 This charm must likewise be performed unperceived and alone. You go to the barn, and open both doors, taking them off the hinges if possible; for there is danger that the being that is about to appear may shut the doors, and do you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in winnowing the corn, which in our country-dialect we call a ‘wecht’, and go through all the attitudes of letting down corn against the wind. Repeat it three times, and the third time, an apparition will pass through the barn, in at the windy door, and out at the other, having both the figure in question, and the appearance or retinue, marking the employment or station in life. R.B.

12 Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a ‘bear-stack’ [stack of bere or bigg, a kind of barley] and fathom it three times round. The last fathom of the last time, you will catch in your arms the appearance of your future conjugal yolk-fellow. R.B.

13 You go out, one or more, for this is a social spell, to a south-running spring, or rivulet, where ‘three Lairds’ lands’ meet, and dip your left shirt- sleeve. Go to bed in sight of a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it to dry. Ly awake, and sometime near midnight, an apparition, having the exact figure of the grand object in question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the other side of it. R.B.

14 Take three dishes, put clean water in one, foul water in another, leave the third empty; blindfold a person and lead him to the hearth where the dishes are ranged; he (or she) dips the left hand: if by chance in the clean water, the future husband (or wife) will come to the bar of Matrimony a Maid; if in the foul, a widow; if in the empty dish, it foretells with equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times, and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered. R.B.

15 Mar’s-year: This was the year 1715, when the 11th Earl of Mar, John Erskine (1675–1732) spear-headed the Jacobite revolt to proclaim the Stuart Pretender King.

16 Sowens, with butter instead of milk, to them, is always the Halloween Supper. R.B.