Tam O Bedlam Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Tam O'Bedlam
Doric Owersett of an anonymous lyric, discovered in a commonplace book of about 1620.

Frae the hag an hungeret trowie, that tae torn cloots wid teir ye,
The speerit that stauns bi the nyakit man in the Buik o Meens defend ye,
That o yer five hale senses, ye niver be forsaken,
Nur wannner frae yersels wi Tam ootbye tae prig yer bacon,

Fylst I dae sing, ony food, ony feedin, feedin, drink, or claithin;
Cam wife or quine, dinna be feart, puir Tam he will hurt naethin.

O thirty bare years hae I twice twinty bin enragèd,
An o forty bin three times fifteen in cell bin sounly cagèd
On the lairdly lafts o Bedlam, wi stibble saft an deinty,
Thole haun cuffs strang, swete whips ding dong wi halesome hunger plenty,

Fylst I dae sing, ony food, ony feedin, feedin, drink, or claithin;
Cam wife or quine, dinna be feart, puir Tam he will hurt naethin.

Fin I short hae shaved ma grumphie's face, ma leather keggie teemin
In an oaken howf I pound ma skin as a suit o gowden claddin;
The meen's ma ongaun mistress, an the lane hoolet ma marra
The fiery dragon an the nicht hoolet mak music tae ma sorra.

Fylst I dae sing, ony food, ony feedin, feedin, drink, or claithin;
Cam wife or quine, dinna be feart, puir Tam he will hurt naethin.

The palsy plagues ma pulses fin I rype yer pork or chucken
Yer doos I takk, or matchless makk yer rooster aa fur ettin
Fin I wint maet wi Humphrey I sup, an fin I am benightit,
I bide in Paul's wi wakin sowels yet niver am affrichtit.

Fylst I dae sing, ony food, ony feedin, feedin, drink, or claithin;
Cam wife or quine, dinna be feart, puir Tam he will hurt naethin.

Wi a heeze o flegsome fancies o which I am commander,
Wi a burnin spear an a shelt o air, tae the wilderness I wanner.
Bi a knicht o ghaists an shaddas, I'm summonded tae a tourney
Ten leagues ayont the wide warld's eyn I's warrant it's nae journey.

Fylst I dae sing, ony food, ony feedin, feedin, drink, or claithin;
Cam wife or quine, dinna be feart, puir Tam he will hurt naethin.