Search just our sites by using our customised search engine

Unique Cottages | Electric Scotland's Classified Directory

Click here to get a Printer Friendly PageSmiley

Clashmaclavers


[Silly Talk]

Lyrics composed by John Henderson on the 29th of December, 2013,
to Louis A.Hirsch's 1919 music for the song 'It Sort Of Makes A Fellow Stop And Think'.

Glossary:
faither=father; faimly=family; fow'r=four; littlins=youngsters; weel=well; kenned=knew; bairnie=infant; babblin'=meaningless talk; nae=no; fule=fool; sich=such; clashmaclaverin'=meaningless talking; aheid=ahead; ging=go; schule=school; tee=also; aboot=about; ithers=others; spikin'=speaking; lerned=taught; brither=brother; deef-deaf; smeerless=sluggish; toddler=an infant who is starting to walk; ainly=only; aye=ever; spak=spoke; wirds=words; wurna=were not; richt=correct; bodie=person; speered=asked; fit like=how are are you; brichtly=brightly; fyle=while; kimmer=wife; sicht=sight; meen=moan; perr=poor; maun=must; dicht=wipe; claise=close; lugholes=ears; lowp=leap; doucely=quietly; bittie=little; hearken=listen; slaa=slow; stairtin'=starting; feesick=medicine; stappit=blocked; lugs=ears.


As faither o' a faimly o' fow'r littlins,
I weel kenned a bairnie babblin' wis nae fule,
An' sich clashmaclaverin' wis aft guid practeese
Fur fan in days aheid they'd ging tae schule.
We've a Jeannie, John an' Dod an' tee a Chairlie,
An' it's him thit noo I'll chat tae ye aboot,
Fur the ithers spikin' clairly shudda lerned wee brither Chairlie,
Bit tae them he seemed as deef as Tammy Troot! ............

"Wee Chairlie wisna smeerless as a toddler,
Bit he ainly aye spak wirds thit wurna richt;
Fan a bodie speered o' him, 'Fit like wee laddie?'
He muttered an' he stuttered, 'Ben-Ben-chicht'.
Syne he'd wanner aff an' sang 'Benchichty' brichtly,
Fyle ma kimmer Kate aye kept him weel in sicht,
An' I'd meen tae her, 'Peer chappie, he's nae yit oot o' his nappy,
Sae it's nae jist aa his wirds thit we maun dicht!'

The doctor tae oor faimly cam tae veesit,
An' hard Chairlie aye spak wirds thit naeb'dy kenned;
Syne he snapped his fingers claise by Chairlie's lugholes,
Bit nae the bairnie didna lowp nor bend.
'It is nae surpreese the loon seems daft fan spikin',
Doctor Duncan doucely said tae Kate an' me,
He's a bittie deef, bit hearken, we wull nae be slaa in stairtin'
Feesick thit wull clair his stappit lugs fur ye.' "


Return to John's Poetry Page


 


This comment system requires you to be logged in through either a Disqus account or an account you already have with Google, Twitter, Facebook or Yahoo. In the event you don't have an account with any of these companies then you can create an account with Disqus. All comments are moderated so they won't display until the moderator has approved your comment.

comments powered by Disqus

Quantcast