Robert Burns Songs The Scottish bard Robert Burns wrote some of the best known poetry in the English language, including Auld Lang Syne, My Love Is Like A Red Red Rose, and Coming Through the Rye. Given this stature, some probably consider it foolish, perhaps even blasphemous, for us to edit a single word of his poetry when we present them as songs. Although we understand that perspective, here's why Cordelia and I do it anyway. Reason #1 - As a born-and-raised Kansans, our Scottish accents sounds fake - not unlike those bad English accents you hear at Renaissance festivals. Others are better at it, but we are not. Since Burns wrote in the Scottish dialect, it's impossible to perform his songs as he wrote them without attempting a heavy Scottish accent. For example... Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord, Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that; Tho' hundreds worship at his word, He's but a cuif for a' that. There is no way for us to perform this without sounding fake. Reason #2 - Vocabulary. It requires some effort for people today to figure out what he's talking about. For example, what do you think of as you read these words: "cuif," "birkie," and "ca'd?" How about this phrase: "He's but a cuif..."? Poetry books will often use footnotes to explain meanings. Music... Reason #3 - Some of his best poems that can be set to music are VERY long songs. Would you really want to hear someone sing all 238 lines of Tam O'Shanter? So, there you have it. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. Tal (Larry) Carter

Robert Burns January 25th, 1759 – July 21st, 1796

Footnote:
With all this in mind, we hope any Burns purists reading this will forgive our edits. Here is an example.

"A Man's a Man for A' That" (As written by Robert Burns, 1795) Is there for honest poverty That hings his head, an a' that? The coward slave, we pass him by - We dare be poor for a' that! For a' that, an a' that! Our toils obscure, an a' that, The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that. What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodding grey, an a' that? Gie fools their silk, and knaves their wine - A man's a man for a' that. For a' that, an a' that, Their tinsel show, an a' that, The honest man, tho e'er sae poor, Is king o men for a' that. Ye see yon birkie ca'd 'a lord,' Wha struts, an stares, an a' that? Tho hundreds worship at his word, He's but a cuif for a' that. For a' that, an a' that, His ribband, star, an a' that, The man o independent mind, He looks an laughs at a' that. A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, an a' that! But an honest man's aboon his might - Guid faith, he mauna fa' that! For a' that, an a' that, Their dignities, an a' that, The pith o sense an pride o worth, Are higher rank than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may (As come it will for a' that), That Sense and Worth o'er a' the earth, Shall bear the gree an a' that. For a' that, an a' that, It's coming yet for a' that, That man to man, the world, o'er Shall brithers be for a' that.

"A Man's a Man For All That" Burns as edited by Larry Carter, 2003 All Rights Reserved But for honest poverty, A man's a man for all that. The lowly slave you pass by He could be you for all that. For all that, and all that, He could be you for all that. The lowly slave you pass by A man's a man for all that. And though on simple food we dine Wear woolen grey, and all that. Give fools their silk, knaves their wine Their dignities and all that. For all that, and all that, Dignities and all that. Fools in silk, knaves in wine A man's a man for all that. And see yon knave they call a lord, He struts and stares, and all that. Though hundreds worship at his word He's still a fool for all that. For all that, and all that. He's still a fool for all that. Though hundreds worship at his word A man's a man for all that. So let us pray that come what may As come it will for all that. That sense and worth o'er all the earth Shall come to pass for all that. For all that, and all that, Come to pass for all that. Sense and worth o'er all the earth, Shall brothers be for all that.