I am not drunk so much as tired

 A DRUNK MAN LOOKS AT THE THISTLE

 By Hugh M'Diarmid

AN INTERLINEAR Scots―English VERSION based on the 

William Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh & London, 1926 edition

(The Project Gutenberg eBook, Hathitrust Digital Library)

(1)  A Drunk Man   p1 v1; p4 vv24-25; p5 v27.

I amna' fou' sae muckles as tired ― deid dune.

I am not 'full' [drunk] so much as tired ― dead done [exhausted].

It's gey and hard wark' coupin gless for gless

It is great and very hard work matching [keeping up, tilting up] glass for glass

Wi' Cruivie and Gilsanquhar and the like

With [personal name] and [personal name] and the other drinkers,

And I'm no' juist as bauld as aince I wes.

And I am no longer as bold ['fierce', youthfull] as I once was.

..................

But that's aside the point! I've got fair waun'ert.

But that is beside the point! I have got quite 'wandered' [uncertain of my whereabouts,                   mentally confused, bewildered].

It's no' that I'm sae fou' as just deid dune,

It is not that I am so drunk as just dead done,

And dinna ken as muckle's whaur I am

And do not know much about where I am

Or hoo I've come to sprawl here 'neth the mune.

Or how I've come to sprawl here beneath the moon.

That's it! It isn't me that's fou' at a',

That is it! It is not me that is 'full' at all,

But the fu' moon, the doited jade, that's led

But the full moon, the crazed godess [the 'haunted' or magical woman], that has led

Me fer agley, or 'mogrified the warld.

Me to go astray [awry, off the straight], or changed [transformed] the world.

―For a' I ken I'm safe in my ain bed.

―For all I know I am safe [at home] in my own bed.

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

'Jean! Jean! Since she is not here it is not our bed,

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

Or else I am dreaming so deeply that I cannot waken,

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

But it is a very weird dream if this is not 

A real hillside ― and thae things thistles and bracken!

A real hillside ― and those things are not thistles and bracken [wild plants endemic to Scotland].

There is no doubt that the poem's speaker is very drunk. He has left the pub but is now lying  on the ground. There is a full moon but all he can see at this level are the surrounding weeds.

This is a deliberate strategy of the poet to claim a wide-ranging freedom of speech, without the limits of strict reason or social convention. As M'Diarmid states in his Author's Note, "Drunkenness has a logic of its own with which, even in these decadent days, I believe a sufficient minority of my countrymen remain au fait."

 

(2)  Tirade against all the sloppy rubbish   p2 v5, p2 vv9-11, p3 vv18, p4 vv19-23

............

And a' that's Scotch about it is the name

And all that is Scottish about it is the name

Like a' thing else ca'd Scottish nooadays

Like everything else called Scottish nowadays

―A' destitute o' speerit juist the same.

―All destitute of spirit just the same.

Sic transit gloria scotia ― a' the floo'ers

Thus passes the glory of Scotland ― all the flowers

O' the Forest are wede awa'. (A bli' bird's nest

Of the Forest are pulled out. (A blind bird's nest

Is aiblins biggin' in the thistle tho'?....

Is perhaps being built in the thistle though?....

And better blin' if'ts brood is like the rest!)

And [it is] better blind if its offspring is like the rest!)

You canna gang to a Burns supper even

You cannot even go along a Burns Supper

Wi'oot some wizened scrunt o' a knock-nee

Without some shrivelled dwarf of a knock-kneed

Chinee turns roon to say "Him Haggis ― velly goot!"

Chinese turns around to say "Him Haggis ― velly goot!"

And ten to wan the piper is a Cockney.

And ten-to-one the [bag-]piper is a [London] Cockney.

No' wan in fifty kens a wurd Burns wrote

Not one in fifty knows a word Burns wrote

But misapplied is a'body's property,

But [when] misinterpreted [it] is everybody's property,

And gin there was his like alive the day

And if there was his type alive today

They'd be the last a kennin' hand to gie ―

They would be the last to give a knowing hand [handshake of recognition or acquaintance].

Croose London Scotties with their braw shirt fronts

Smug London Scotties with their fine shirt fronts

And a' their fancy freen's, rejoicin'

And all their fancy friends, rejoicing

That similah gatherings in Timbuctoo,

That similar gatherings in Timbuctoo,

Bagdad ― and Hell, nae doot ― are voicin'

Baghdad ― and Hell, no doubt ― are voicing

Burns' sentiments o' universal love

Burns' sentiments of universal love,

In pidgin English or in wild-fowl Scots,

In creole/colonial English or upper-class/grouse-shooting Scots,

And toastin' ane wha's nocht to them but an

And toasting one who is nothing to them but an

Excuse for faitherin' Genius wi' their thochts.

Excuse for 'fathering'/joining Genius with their [own] thoughts.

A' they've to say was aften said afore

All they have to say was often said before

A lad was born in Kyle to blaw about.

A lad was born in Kyle to blow/roam about.

What unco' fate maks him the dumpin' grun'

What strange/unusual fate makes him [Burns] the dumping-ground

For a' the sloppy rubbish they jaw oot?
For all the sloppy rubbish they pour/gush out? 

Mair nonsense has been uttered in his name

More nonsense has been muttered in his name

Than in any's barrin liberty and Christ.

Than in any[-one else's] barring liberty [revolution] and Christ [religion].

If this keeps spreedin as the drink declines,

If this keeps spreading as the drink [alcohol] declines,

Syne turns to tea, wae's me for the Zeitgeist!

Then turns to tea,woe/sorrowful is me for the Zeitgeist!  [i.e. there goes the neighbourhood     —"the general intellectual, moral, and cultural climate of the era"]

Rabbie, wad'st thou wert here ― the warld hath need,

Robbie [Burns], if only you were here ― the world has need,

And Scotland mair sae, o' the likes of thee!

And Scotland more so, of people like you!

The whisky that aince moved your lyre's become 

The whisky that once inspired your lyrics has become

A laxative for a' loquacity.

A laxative for all loquacity.

O gin they'd stegh their guts and haud their wheesht

Oh, when they had stuffed their guts [had Dinner] and held their [moment of] Silence

I'd thole it, for "a man's a man", I ken,

I had tolerated/endured it, for "a man's a man", I know,

But though the feck ha'e plenty o' the "a' that",

But though the majority have plenty of the "all that",  

They're nocht but zoologically men.

They are nothing but zoological men [biological beings without human spirit].

I'm havering, Rabbie, but ye understaun'

I am talking foolishly, Robbie, but you understand

It gets my dander up to see your star

It makes me angry to see your star

A baubel in Babel, banged like a saxpence

A bauble in Babel, struck like a sixpence

'Twixt Burbank's Baedeker and Bleistein's cigar.

Between "Burbank's Baedeker and Bleistein's Cigar". [ref: TS Eliot poem 'Burbank with a     Baedeker : Bleistein with a Cigar']

There's nane sae ignorant but think they can

There is none so ignorant that they think they can

Expatiate on you, if on nae ither.

Expand/expound on you, even if on no other.

The sumphs ha'e ta'en you at your wird, and, fegs!

The slow-witted/soft-headed have taken you at your word, and, For God's Sake! [acronym     'fegs' extended]

The foziest o' them claims to be a ― Brither.

The fuzziest/dullest of them claims to be a ― Brother.

Syne "Here's the cheenge" ― the star of Rabbie Burns.

Then "Here is the change" ― the star of Robbie Burns.

Sma' change, "Twinkle, Twinkle". The memory slips

Small change, "Twinkle, Twinkle [little star]". The memory slips

As G.K. Chesterton heaves up to gi'e

As G.K Chesterton [rotund English poet] heaves up to give

"The Immortal Memory" in a huge eclipse,

"The Immortal Memory" [main speech at a Burns Supper] in a huge eclipse [blocking out the     real Burns],

Or somebody else as famous if less fat.

Or somebody else as famous if less fat.

You left the like in Embro' in a scunner

You left people like that in E'in'bro/Edinburgh in disgust

To booze with thieveless cronies sic as me.

To drink heavily with idle mates such as me.

I'se warrant you'd shy clear o' a' the hunner

I guarantee you would stay clear of all the hundred

Odd Burns' Clubs tae, or ninety-nine o' them,

Odd Burns' Clubs too, or ninety-nine of them,

And haud your birthday in a different kip

And hold your anniversary in a different place

Whaur your name isna' ta'en in vain ― as Christ

Where your name is not taken in vain [insincerely] ― [just] as Christ

Gied a' Jerusalem's Pharisees the slip,

Gave all of Jerusalem's Pharisees the slip,

― Christ wha'd ha'e been Chief Rabbi gin he'd lik't! ―

― Christ who would have been Chief Rabbi if he had wanted ―

Wi' publicans and sinners to forgether,

With publicans and sinners to gather together,  

But, losh! the publicans noo are Pharisees,

But Lord Save Us! [acronym 'losh' extended] the publicans now are Pharisees,

And I'm no' shair o' maist the sinners either.

And I'm not sure of most of the sinners either.

(3)  I'll Have No Half-Way House    p5 vv28-30, p6 vv33-36,38-39

As Kirks with Christianity have done,

As Churches with Christianity have done,

Burns' Clubs with Burns ― wi' a' thing it's the same,

Burns Clubs with Burns [have done] ― with all things it is the same,

The core o' ocht is only for the few,

The in-group/elite of anything [the 'somebodies'] is only for the few,

Scorned by the mony, thranged wi'ts empty name.

Rejected by the many/majority, [but] crowded with its empty name.

And a' the names in History mean nocht

And all the [famous] names in History mean nothing

To maist folk but "ideas o' their ain",

To most people [except as] "ideas of their own"

The vera opposite o' onything
The very opposite of anything

The Deid 'ud awn gin they cam' back again.

The Dead would recognise if they [were to] come back again.

A greater Christ, a greater Burns, may come.

A greater Christ, a greater Burns may come.

The maist they'll dae is to gi'e bigger pegs

The most they will do is to give larger hooks 

To folly and conceit to hank their rubbish on.

For folly and conceit to hang their rubbish on.

They'll cheenge folk's talk but no' their natures, fegs!

They'll change people's speech but not their attitudes, By faith/Truly!

..............

I doot I'm geylies mixed, like Life itsel'

I suppose I'm pretty muddled, like Life itself,

But I was never ane that thoct to pit

But I was never one that thought to put

An ocean in a mutchkin. As the haill's

An ocean into a quarter pint measuring mug. As the whole is

Mair than the pairt sae I than reason yet.

More than the part, so I then reason still [I continue to make sense of it this way].

I dinna haud the warld's end in my heid

I do not hold the world's end in my head

As maist folk think they dae; nor filter truth

As most folk think they do [discounting biblical explanations?]; neither do I filter truth

In fishy gills through which its tides may poor

In fishy gills through which its tide may pour

For only animalculae forsooth.

For only microscopic animals for truth [discounting laborious scientific method?].

I lauch to see my crazy little brain

I laugh to see my crazy little brain 

― and ither folk's ― tak'n itsel' seriously,

― and other people's ― taking itself [too] seriously,

And in a sudden lowe o' fun my saul

And in a sudden burst/blaze of fun my soul

Blinks dozent as the owl I ken't to be.

Blinks drunkenly [dazed/dozing with drink] as the owl I know it to be.

I'll ha'e nae hauf-way hoose, but aye be whaur

I will have no half-way house, but I be where

Extremes meet ― it's the only way I ken

Extremes meet ― it is the only way I know

To dodge the curst conceit o' bein' richt

To dodge the cursed conceit of being right

That damn's the vast majority o' men.

That damns the vast majority of men.

...........

I ha'e nae doot some foreign philosopher

I have no doubt some foreign philosopher

Has wrocht a system oot to justify

Has wrought/worked a system out to justify

A' this; but I'm a Scot who blin'ly follows

All this; but I am a Scot who blindly follows

Auld Scottish instincts, and I winna try.

Old Scottish instincts, and I will not try [international ideologies].

For I've nae faith in ocht I can explain,

For I have no faith in anything I can [logically/plausibly] explain,

And stert whaur the philosophers leave off,

And start/make a beginning where philosophers finish/cease,

Content to glimpse its loops I dinna ettle

Content to glimpse its occasionally visible parts I do not intend 

To land the sea serpent's sel' wi' ony gaff.

To capture/expose the entire [hidden/deepsea] thing itself with any loud triumphant cry/laugh.

The drunken man refuses to accept trite or half-hearted 'solutions' to a Scotsman's plight. He rejects standard or modern pathways to 'explain' ― religion, science, ideology and philosophy are all deemed inadequate to the poet's purpose. 

The 'method' he insists on using is irrational, resolutely Scottish, and inevitably piece-meal. It is radical because it denies the possibility of smooth narrative and a neat conclusion. (His tone is also pig-headed and belligerent, consistent with an alcohol-fuelled argument about 'life, sex, and the universe'). 

The theme of the first part of this long poem at least, is contempt for what is false, compromised, or 'comfortable'. Especially damned is Scottish 'accommodation' with England and Empire, such as bogus Burns' Suppers!