[In N.E. Doric]
Spang's bricht floo'rs are ap'nin', sleepin' leys are
Ten taes, we're riestiv', an' crackin'. ....
Richt eens spik tae left eens, "Far ist oor shune hodin'?
We are shair, jist yokin' here, tae seen stert waukin'....
'Maister' ow'r the frint bass, oot the gairden, doon the
Ging veesit a' the floorish int ley.
Wanner i' the sinsheen, gaithrin' daffies, fushachs tulips
Pleast wann'rin far thon spang floo'rs sproot free.
Cairtin', oor chyses we'll tirn, heid gie, blooms cot-room
An' syne baul waff aroon the bothy, frae thur vases, wull be
sae sae braw,
Thit kneggum oor ten taes'll weer 'wa!"
Spring's bright flow'rs are ope'ning, sleeping leas they're
Ten toes, we're restive, chat making ....
Right ones say to left ones, "Where are our shoes hiding?
We are sure, just itching here, to soon start guiding ...
'Master' o'er the door-step, through the garden, down the
Go visit all the blooms in the lea.
Wander in the sunshine, gath'ring daff'dils, bunches tulips
Pleas'd wand'ring where those flowers shoot through.
Clutching, our choices we'll turn, to give, blooms house-room
And then strong scent around the household, from their vases,
will be so, so clear,
That stench from our ten toes'll dis'ppear!"
Strang guff frae ten taes gaen aglay!
[Words composed by DDJ on 26th March, 2005]