Don’t Look, Listen

The Dance Of Siva

AUM NAMAH SHIVAYA

As autumn approaches
Leaves fall through a tree.
They make a sound similar to
Rain falling on leaves.

More of what’s happening
reaches your ears
than reaches your eyes.

My Nanie’s Awa

Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays,
And listens the lambkins that bleat o’er the braes,
While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw;
But to me it’s delightless – my Nanie’s awa.

The snawdrap and primrose our woodlands adorn,
And violets bathe in the weet o’ the morn;
They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw,
They mind me o’ Nanie – and Nanie’s awa.

Thou lavrock that springs frae the dews of the lawn
The shepherd to warn o’ the grey-breaking dawn,
And thou mellow mavis that hails the night-fa’,
Give over for pity – my Nanie’s awa.

Come Autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and grey,
And soothe me wi’ tydings o’ Nature’s decay:
The dark, dreary Winter, and wild-driving snaw,
Alane can delight me – now Nanie’s awa.

By Robert Burns

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