Lost in Translation

 By Ashley Lister

 I’m indebted to Vicky Ellis for the following poem. Inspiration came during one of Vicky's superlative writing workshops at Central Library. For anyone unfamiliar with these workshops, Vicky runs them on the final Saturday of each month at Central Library. Admission is free and they are a genuine stimulus to the imagination.

This is my translation of a foreign language poem. It originally comes from the exotic place of Scotland and was written in 1794 by Robert Burns.

My translated lines are in italics between the originals

A Red, Red Rose

O my Luve's like a red, red rose, 

My girlfriend’s like a red flower. A very red flower.
That's newly sprung in June:
A red flower from the forecourt outside Texaco

O my Luve's like the melodie, 

She’s like a song.
That's sweetly play'd in tune. 

Not a Robbie Williams song.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, 

You’re blonde
So deep in luve am I; 
And you bang like a drummer having an epileptic fit

And I will luve thee still, my dear, 

I shall happily sleep in the damp spot
Till a' the seas gang dry. 

Unless it’s very damp.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
I have a speech impediment that causes me to repeat myself

And the rocks melt wi' the sun; 

Anywhere above 3⁰ Celsius is warm to a Scotsman
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
So long as you don’t find out what I’m doing with your sister

While the sands o' life shall run. 
I’ll keep doing you.

And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve!

Are you OK to leave me alone with your sister and your deep fried Mars Bars for 10 minutes? 
And fare-thee-weel, a while! 

Actually, 3 minutes should do.I was bragging when I said 10 minutes.
And I will come again, my Luve, 

↑What he said↑
Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile!

I ♥ The Proclaimers