We ailed in the 'arts of they stones, noor were theer a bed fer boons, boot straw! That eesn't ta see, theer woosn't a dee, or nacht as weel, wheere a boody woosn't theer fer me..at ah.
Namaste
Written by Bruce James Clyde, at Deming, New Mexico
Translation:
I lingered in more than one 'castle keep, and I can tell thee...they be cold drafty things...draught's of wind straight down the great halls, without a 'pardon we'!
We ailed in the hearts of the stones, nor were there a bed for bones, but straw! That isn't to say, there wasn't a day, or night as well, where a body
wasn't there for me...at all.
P.S. Tis harder to swing a Scottish brogue(and that's just one), than to swing a 'claymore'!(Scottish two edged broadsword).
Art: gateway to Dumbarton castle, Scotland, google pic
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