Talk! My God, she loves tae talk
That’s why she goes fur walks
Stoaps everybuddy in the street
Aye! Everyone she meets.
The weather’s furst, that always furst
Then efter that, the deaths
She’ll talk fur bloody ‘oors oan end
An’ never takes a breath!
The gossip! Aye, the slander,
Aye coatin’ sumbdy aff
Some poor soul’s goat burnin’ ears
An a’ she dis is laugh!
At last she says she’ll huv tae go
She’s goat tae catch ‘er bus.
Don’t kid yersel’, we’re a’ the same
She’s jist ane o’ us!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem