Ah'll mak an attempt, frae listenin tae a CD o it... a grand song in the Scots Leid, whilk maeved me on fairst hearin it in concert, an stirs ma soul e'en yet. Davy introducit the sang in concert by craicin aboot "those folk that jist dinnae fit in" but hae their ain unique gifts wairth honorin...
   Hope the lyrics belaw wairk for ye, Guest--let me ken (know) if ye need help wi the Scots wairds.
   --Cuilionn


JENNIE O' THE BRAES
(As sung by Davy Steele on "Rain, Hail, or Shine")

The people cried her Jennie o the Braes
An she wis weel-kent tae us aa.
Her ganglin body, hingin oot her claithes,
Made her stan oot when
she strode doon the braes.
Twa days a week, she'd come visitin the toon;
She'd tak the braes rain, hail or shine;
Her silver hair wuid be fleein in the wind
An' folk thocht her a craiture mad or wild

When ice an snaw gripped aa the kintry,
Ye'd see the smoak rise frae her chimney;
The world ablaw cuid then rest easy
for Jennie o' the Braes

The wind blew allus roond the muir;
It rattled on her cottage windae.
She sat inside claise by the fire;
She wis content in her ain company
An if ye askit her if she wis weel,
She'd say "I'm grand, Sir, how's yersel?"
An then she'd trudge on up the hill--
Jennie o the Braes

She wisnae bothered owermuch wi gear;
She lived on cheese, breid, oats an barley.
She wisnae fashed wi trouble or care;
She'd spurn the knock that brocht a helpin haun.
Sometimes she'd wander ower the muir,
Collectin heather, plants an fleurs,
An singing saftly tae hersel--
Jennie o the Braes

Last year, she bidit mair at hame.
Her cottage door wis seldom open
An when the spring fleurs cam tae bloom,
She hardly ever ventur'd doon the braes.
Ane day when someane wis oot walkin,
They saw her chimney wisnae smoakin;
They foun her sittin in the kitchen,
A smile upon her face...
Jennie o' the Braes