Listen In - The Auld caff Seck 
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The Auld caff Seck

This recording is the the Caithness poem 'E Owld Caff Seck by Donald Grant.
The Scots transcription uses the traditional literary conventions described in Wir Ain Leed, it is a transcription of what was said, not an attempt at phonetic accuracy and may differ from that of the author.

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Recording used courtesy of and hosted by the School of Scottish Studies Archive.

A dinna like the pleatit beds that modren fowk lie on
Wi all that weirs that leave yer back juist like a brandered scone
None o that streamlined beds for me! The kynd o rest A like
Is wi ma haunch-bone buiried in the auld caff-seck!

A like a bed that maks a muive til welcome achin backs,
No like this new contraptions that defy ye til relax
Yer torturt body wallops til yer bones are like til brek;
Gie me the yieldin welcome wi the auld caff-seck.

Ye clim abuird at bedtime, ye snuggle warm an deep,
It hauds ye in its soft embrace an lulls ye off til sleep;
It gaithers roond ye like a spell an gairds ye safe an soond
An like a bairn ye slumber til anither day comes roond.

Mebbe whan simmer's at its hicht it's apt til brak the sweit,
But on a bitin winter's nicht its comfort's haurd til beat.
Whan nothin seems til warm yer bones awa til bed ye traik
An thaw yer shiverin carcass on the auld caff-seck.

Whan this new-fangeled mattresses are gettin kin o ripe
Thay ask a lock o siller til pit thaim back in shape
But whan the caff-seck's haed its day leuk at the cash ye hain!
Juist empty hit ahint the dyke an fill it up again!

No wonder that fowk nouadays complain o sleeplessness
On that glorified weir-nettin thay call a spring mattress.
Let ithers in thair ignorance uise that things if thay like,
A'll snore ma wey til glory on ma auld ...