Noo, ye ken, we'll see 'em agen,
Waggling doon the street,
While the baton twirls an' the piper skirls
To the beat of the marching feet.
Left - right - glimmerin' bright,
Buttons and cairngorms shine;
While the pipes give forth 'The Cock o' the North'
Ho! The kilts are in the line!
Far an' faint ye hear the plaint
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem