The 25th of January is the birthday of the great Robert Burns, one of Scotland’s most famous poets and widely recognised as the nation’s national poet. Burns was a pioneer of poetry written in the Scots language, though he also wrote in English and in a “light” Scottish dialect, which could be understood beyond the Land of the Saltire.
Traditionally, a Burns supper is had on or near the date of his birthday. I’m going to one this weekend with the Aberdeen MedSoc – ceilidh n’ all. In the mean time, having finished my exams, I will now endeavour to dispense of all knowledge recently memorised.
What wad ye wish for mair, man?
Wha kens, before his life may end,
What his share may be o’ care, man?
…Then catch the moments as they fly,
And use them as ye ought, man:
Believe me, happiness is shy,
And comes not aye when sought, man.
Also – it’s a strange place to find beauty but some of these fixed-gear bikes are stunning works of art.