When snell o'er the snaw-tappet mountains,    The breath o' the North tak's a flight, An' seals up oor lochs an' oor fountains    Wi' something like magical sleight : Syne on the clear surface we venture    Wi' a' oor equipments in tune, Tae join in the sports o' the winter,    Wi' skates, an' weel-tacketet shoon, Brods an' crampets an' a',    Stanes an' besoms an' a',       How social the sport an' how manly,       Wi' stanes and besoms an' a'. Oor able commanders endeavour    Tae pitch on a fair lyin' rink, An' teach us the skilfu' manoeuvre    To win a guid dinner an' drink. They point oot the tees wi' discretion,    Tae fit the true state o' the ice, Then ilka ane stan's at his station,    Tae hear the director's advice. Able an' willin' an' a',    Ready an' steady an' a',       How social the sport. etc. But first we maun toss for the crampets,    For a' maun be orderly done, An' maybe oor throats maun be dampet    Afore the first stane be laid on. Then - " Here's a guid game an' guid greein',    Fairplay, an' nae wee puny pranks " . The brethren unfrien'ly tae playin'    Return their unanimous thanks. Noddin', haun'-shakin' an' a',    Snufn' an' jokin' an' a',       How social the sport, etc. Oor forehaun', noo ready for action,    Is metin' the lead wi' his e'e, An', hearin' his usual direction,    Has clappet his haun' on his knee Stan' back at the hog wi' a besom,    Soop, soop, for the ice is but new ; He's back, but we'll ha'e tae excuse him,    We ken what our leader can do. Leadin' an' drawin' an' a',    Guardin' an' strikin' an' a'.       How social the sport, etc. Oor watchfu' opponents, in motion,    Direct tae draw up by a side ; Ye'll come to my cowe, I've a notion-    Keep close for ye maunna flee wide; Weel done, sire - up haim's - he's a' roarin'-    It's lost if it passes the ring - That shot's rather strong for a forehaun',    Yet no very faur frae the thing. Soopin' an' scrapin' an' a',    Shakin' o' besoms an' a',       How social the sport, etc. Noo, stane after stane in rotation -    Ilk wishin' tae dae as he's bid. Till some in the brugh get a station,    An' ane's turned a very pat-lid Noo, John, dae ye see a' the winner,    If no, tak' this wick at my cove, Then tilt, he comes roarin' like thunner,    An' spreads them like sheep on a knowe. This way an' that way an' a'.    Oot o' the ring an' awa',       How social the sport, etc. Fine ports ha'e been entered an' blocket,    Guid stanes ha'e been laid on ilk side, Yet tho' we've been equally yoket,    Noo vict'ry maun come an' decide Oor hin'haun', unrivall'd at drawin',    Sen's up a tee-shot to a hair, - Game, game! wi' lood cheers an' huzzain'.    While besoms play sough in the air. Thankin' an' roozin' an' a',    Pourin' o' bottles an' a'. Then hey for a " Beef an' Greens " dinner       Wi' jaws o' guid toddie an' a'. Gley'd shots may noo keep at a distance,    The lucky anes a' come in head - Dram glasses are station'd, for instance,    The way the stanes stood on the lade; Wi' challenges gettin' an' gi'ein',    The nicht wi' the toddy rins done ; Then let us step hame while we're seein'    Wi' stars an' the licht o' the moon, Muckle an' manfu' an' a',    Hiccupin', singin' an' a', We'll meet a' again i' the mornin'       Wi' stanes an' besoms an' a'.
THE CURLER’S SONG
The Village of Chryston - North Lanarkshire - Scotland
Chryston
Walter Watson
The Chryston Poet
(and translated...) When bitter cold over the snow topped mountains, The breath of the north takes a flight, And seals up our lochs and our fountains, With something like magical slight: Sooner or later on the clear surface we venture With all our equipment in tune, To join in the sports of the winter, With skates and well tacked shoes [tacketty boots], Brushes and crampets and all, Stone and brooms and all, How social the sport and how manly, With stones and brooms and all. Our able commanders endeavour, To pitch on a fair lying rink, And teach us the skilful manoeuvre, To win a good dinner and drink. They point out the tees with discretion, To fit the true state of the ice, Then every one stands at his station, To hear the director's advice. Able and willing and all, Ready and steady and all, How social the sport. etc. But first we must toss for the crampets, For all must be orderly done, And maybe our throats must be damped Before the first stone be laid on. Then - " Here's a good game and good greeting', Fairplay, and no small silly pranks " . The brethren unfriendy to playing Return their unanimous thanks. Nodding, hand-shaking and all, Sniffing and joking and all, How social the sport, etc. Our forehand, now ready for action, Is meeting the lead with his eye, And, hearing his usual direction, Has clapped his hand on his knee Stand back at the hog with a besom, Sweep, sweep, for the ice is but new ; He's back, but we'll have to excuse him, We know what our leader can do. Leading and drawing and all, Guarding and striking and all. How social the sport, etc. Our watchful opponents, in motion, Direct to draw up by a side ; You'll come to my tee, I've a notion- Keep close for you mustn't fly wide; Well done, sir - up home - he's all roaring- It's lost if it passes the ring - That shot's rather strong for a forehand, Yet not very far from the thing. Sweeping and scraping and all, Shaking of besoms and all, How social the sport, etc. Now, stone after stone in rotation - Each wishing to do as he's bid. Till some in the halo get a station, And one's turned a very pot-lid Now, John, do you see all the winner, If not, take this wick at my advice, Then tilt, he comes roaring like thunner, And spreads them like sheep on a hillside. This way and that way and all. Out of the ring and away, How social the sport, etc. Fine ports have been entered and blocked, Good stones have been laid on each side, Yet though we've been equally yoked, Now victory must come and decide Our decision, unrivalled at drawing, Sends up a tee-shot to a hair, - Game, game! with' loud cheers and huzzain'. While besoms wave up in the air. Thanking and celebrating and all, Pouring of bottles and all. Then have for a " Beef and Greens " dinner With jaws of good toddie and all. Misguided shots may now keep at a distance, The lucky ones and come in head - Dram glasses are stationed, for instance, The way the stones stood on the lade; With challenges getting and giving, The night with the toddy runs done ; Then let us step home while we're seeing With stars and the light of the moon, Much and drunk and all, Hiccuping, singing and all, We'll meet all again in the morning With stones and besoms and all.