The whiskey on your breathCould make a small boy dizzy;But I hung on like death:Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pansSlid from the kitchen shelf;My mother’s countenanceCould not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wristWas battered on one knuckle;At every step you missedMy right ear scraped a buckle. You beat time […]
About to sit down with my half-pint of Guinness
I was magnetized by a remote phosphorescence
and drawn, like a moth, to the darkened back room
where a pool-table hummed to itself in the corner.
If you chance to strike a gathering of half-a-dozen friends
/ When the drink is Highland whusky or some chosen Border blends,
/ And…
Ay, gie’s ma rum. I’m needin’t sair, by God!
/ We’ve juist been bringin’ Wullie doun the line –…
In Chile now, cherries are dancing,
/ the dark, secretive girls are singing,
/ and in guitars, water is shining.
/
/ The sun is touching every…
“If freedom an whisky gang thegither”: Robert Burns
/
/ i.
/ When we sit wined and finely dined,
/ Dressed up in oor best, braw and…
If folk wad be cautious when takin’ a drappy,
/ And mind they maun eat as weel’s drink to be happy,
/ They’d be…
Ac mi ffrwydrith
yn llond cwpan o rosyn gwlithog
sy’n troi ei hwyneb llyfn tua’r llif
ac yn sugno’n hy o lygad y storm.
Úr mansöng þriðju rímu
/
/ 1
/ Opnast munnur enn á ný,
/ ómar þunnir líða um skolt.
/ Þó ég kunni að koðna á því
/ kveð ég…
