A tribute to The Bard, Scotland's own Robert Burns --shepherd to we farflung diasporees. Lonnie Glass put this poem to music and recorded it. Burnt Doun (in Lallans Scots) Oh nae mair leaves need seegnifee a tree 'cept widden words tae fall frae me. Mah makary* will nou suffice. Sae see yese woud play roun' real nice. Frae birk tae elm tae sprush tae pine I've sned** the firth*** doun tae ane**** line. Nou sycophant, nae sycamore, mopes roun' aboot the firth's deid floor. That greenhoose gas can bleeze in hell. Tis rotten science, fir's as I can tell. * poetry ** pruned, cleared *** forest **** one