Robbie's Poems in English
Robbie's two poems 'The Other Two' and 'The Unwelcome Arrival' roughly translated into English.
The Other Two
The night was dark, the wind was cold, the air was full of sleet,
but both of us were big and strong, and we were soon up on our feet.
A perfect pair is what we are, a credit to our mother.
But what is this! It cannot be! She has gone and had another.
You could hardly call that thing over there a lamb, it is thin, and weak, and small.
It really should not be here, to bring shame on us all.
At least she is just ignoring it, and we will pay to it no heed.
For in our own opinion, it would be better off dead.
There is no doubt that our breeding shows, we are surely set for fame.
But a runt like that one over there! Our brother? God save us from such pain.
And so without a sideways glance, we wander out of sight.
To save our name it is best by far, that he does not survive to see the morning light.
It's plain to see that you and I are of a better class,
and should be fed on better things than tall, badly managed grass.
So we break out at every opportunity, to get to the neighbours' peas and corn,
and regarding that beautiful cabbage patch over there, we will clear it all tomorrow.
The farmer surely knows our worth, he has taken us down to the sheltered fields by the farm
and stuffs us full of concentrates, the kind they feed to cattle.
It is not the stuff for common sheep, it is such stuff as would be fed to gods,
and all the other older ewes walk by with knowing nods.
Each day he stands and admires us, to tell us there is no need.
We and his other farming friends, know we are extra good.
He's brushed, and washed, and trimmed our wool, till we are white and gleaming.
We will prove that we are the world's best, he is taking us to the 'Show'.
We are both very proud, and rightly so, we both stick out our chest,
and line up out there, we cannot fail, we are certain to beat the rest.
The judge he inspects the whole line, we do not need to worry,
and as for the other 'also rans' we cannot say we are sorry.
We won! We knew it all along, we are the best by miles.
And all the people around our pen look down with knowing smiles.
Deservedly we are the top, we've reached the top most tip.
But tell us what does it mean to win, the Butcher's Championship.
The Unwelcome Arrival.
That night, a north east sleet laden wind blew that would freeze you stiff to the bone.
Behind the wall, was this small lamb, cold, hungry, and alone.
Left there by his mother, she did not care a damn,
she did not need this troublesome burden, she had two other big lambs.
Picked up in the morning, not quite dead
and taken to the farmhouse to be warmed and given a feed.
The farmer said, 'there is not much hope the bloody thing will probably die.'
His wife was more soft hearted, 'Give the pitiful little soul to me.'
With a not insubstantial amount of TLC, and warm milk in his belly,
our hero stumbled to his feet and fell to land under the telly.
The wife she says. 'This will not do, our system is just folly.
He's soaked the mat, upset the cat, and tries to suckle the collie.'
'And do you remember the night when you came in and took off your wellingtons
and stepped into a dollop that was sticky, warm and smelly?
You promised that night, that come tomorrow, you would do something about it.
With the morning light it is out the door. Do that for me? I doubt it.'
'The cardboard box that he is kept in, is of no use any more,
the bottom is soggy and there is piddle on the floor.
I can not count how many lambs I have had to look after this year.
You'll have to find another way. There will be no more in here!'
But you and I we both know well that come cold winters rain.
another day, another lamb, she will do the same again.
With little thanks and far less cash, she will do what is expected,
and on this place, no little lamb will ever feel neglected.