Au cours d'une discussion sur les "Burns' suppers" avec l'ami K-Lain, on est venu à citer le célèbre "The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men, [Gang aft agley, [An' lea'e us naught but grief an' pain, [For promis'd joy!" et à parler du "Of Mice and Men" de John Steinbeck.

Voilà donc une copie du poème dans son intégralité, écrit et dit, en souvenir des mémorables nuits du 25 janvier de ma jeunesse.

(Je n'aime pas la façon dont le poème est rendu par le récitant ; mais ça fera l'affaire en attendant que je retrouve mon fichier audio favori.)

To a Mouse, On turning her up in her Nest, with the Plough, November, 1785 (by Robert Burns)

Wee, sleekest, cowran, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic 's in thy breastie!
Thou need no start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!

I'am truly sorry Man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' follow-mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request: I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to bieg a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' wast,
An' weary Winter coming fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the bast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past Out thro' thy cell.

That wee-bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the Winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!

But Mousie, thou art no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best lest schemes o' Mice an' Men,
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

Still, thou art best, compar'd wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e'e,
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

Quelques sites dédiés à Robert Burns :