A drunk man looks at the thistle

by Hugh MacDiarmid

That’s it! It isna me that’s fou’ at a’,

But the fu’ mune, the doited jade, that’s led

Me fer agley, or ’mogrified the warld.

—For a’ I ken I’m safe in my ain bed.

Jean! Jean! Gin she’s no’ here it’s no’ oor bed,

Or else I’m dreamin’ deep and canna wauken,

But it’s a fell queer dream if this is no’

A real hillside—and thae things thistles and bracken!

It’s hard wark haud’n by a thocht worth ha’en’

And harder speakin’t, and no’ for ilka man;