and haud their Halloween

This statue of Scottish poet Robert Burns stands in a small park in downtown Halifax. Walking past him at this time of year reminds me of his rather lengthy poem about Halloween, one of my favourites because it evokes the spirit of the Halloween celebrations of centuries ago. Like a portal into another world. Unlike the current focus on costumes, pumpkins, and horrors of every description, Halloween in the Britain of the late 1700’s was celebrated with parties and games, many of which involved old spells intended to identify your true love or discover whom you would marry. There was a definite romantic slant to the occasion. Young people threw nuts with names painted on them into the fire coals to watch in which order they burst, which was then taken as an omen.

I’ve included part of Robert Burns’s poem here. And for anyone, like me, whose olde Scottish dialect is a little rusty, the modern English translation follows immediately afterwards.

Halloween

Upon that night,

when fairies light

On Cassilis Downans dance,

Or owre the lays,

in splendid blaze,

On sprightly coursers prance;

Or for Colean the route is ta'en,

Beneath the moon's pale beams;

There, up the cove, to stray and rove,

Among the rocks and streams

To sport that night.

Among the bonny winding banks,

Where Doon rins, wimplin' clear,

Where Bruce ance ruled the martial ranks,

And shook his Carrick spear,

Some merry, friendly, country-folks,

Together did convene,

To burn their nits, and pou their stocks,

And haud their Halloween

Fu' blithe that night.

The auld guidwife's well-hoordit nits,

Are round and round divided,

And monie lads' and lasses' fates

Are there that night decided:

Some kindle coothie, side by side,

And burn thegither trimly;

Some start awa, wi' saucy pride,

And jump out-owre the chimlie

Fu' high that night."

Ae hairst afore the Sherramoor,

--I mind't as weel's yestreen,

I was a gilpey then,

I'm sureI wasna past fifteen;

The simmer had been cauld and wat,

And stuff was unco green;

And aye a rantin' kirn we gat,

And just on Halloween

It fell that night.

Among the brackens, on the brae,

Between her and the moon,

The deil, or else an outler quey,

Gat up and gae a croon:

Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool!

Near lav'rock-height she jumpit;

but mist a fit, and in the pool

Out-owre the lugs she plumpit,

Wi' a plunge that night.

Wi' merry sangs, and friendly cracks,

I wat they didna weary;

And unco tales, and funny jokes,

Their sports were cheap and cheery;

Till butter'd so'ns, wi' fragrant lunt,

Set a' their gabs a-steerin';

Syne, wi' a social glass o' strunt,

They parted aff careerin'

Fu' blythe that night.

. . . and now in English

Halloween

Upon that night, when fairies light

On Cassilis Downans dance,

Or over the lays, in splendid blaze,

On sprightly horses prance;

Or for Colean the route is taken,

Beneath the moon's pale beams;

There, up the cove, to stray and rove,

Among the rocks and streams

To sport that night.

Among the bonny winding banks,

Where the river Doon runs clear,

Where Bruce once ruled the martial ranks,

And shook his Carrick spear,

Some merry, friendly, country-folks,

Together did convene,

To burn their nuts, and pile their shocks of wheat,

And have their Halloween

Full of fun that night.

The old housewife's well-hoarded nuts,

Are round and round divided,

And many lads' and lasses' fates

Are there that night decided:

Some kindle cosily, side by side,

And burn together trimly;

Some start away, with saucy pride,

And jumpout over the chimney

Full high that night.

"One harvest before the Sherramoor,

-I remember it as well as last night,

I was a young girl then,

I'm sure I was not past fifteen;

The summer had been cold and wet,

And stuff was very green;

And yes a merry harvest home we got,

And just on Halloween

It fell that night.

Among the brackens, on the slope,

Between her and the moon,

The devil, or else an unhoused cow,

Got up and gave a moo!

Poor Lizzie's heart most leap out of her chest!

Near lark-height she jumped;

But missed a foot, and in the pool

Out-over the ears she falls in,

With a plunge that night.

With merry songs, and friendly tales,

I know they didn't weary;

And many tales, and funny jokes,

Their sports were cheap and cheery;

Till buttered scones, with fragrant steam,

Set all their mouths a'stirring;

Then, with a social glass of liquor,

They parted off careering

Full happy that night.

Full text and translation

Source