Robert Burns wrote in Scottish verse
His meanings aren't quite clear.
His spelling became worse and worse,
He wrote it without fear.
His rhyming is perfection,
His wording is sublime,
But then on close inspection,
It doesn't work.
That's what makes a poem,
As Robert Burns once said:
'Give them rubbish, that'll show 'em'
And look at him – he's dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem