Céad míle fáilte

Welcome to Glaswegian.info - your hard edged online dictionary of Glaswegian, Gaelic and Scottish words.

Click on a letter above to see the words, descriptions, meanings, examples and translations from Glaswegian or Scottish into English.

Oh, and while you're here, you might as well take a look at the webmasters humour books - if you know what's good for you!

Enjoy and please email us with any words you would like added to the database.

Slàinte

Glasgow Coat of Arms

Glasgow Coat of Arms Let Glasgow Flourish

Let Glasgow Flourish

Now with added DORIC.

Aye-Aye Min!! Be warned this website now contains Doric.

Remember - 4th of June is International Talk Doric Day - Join the fun. Make sure all your family and friends know.

Talk Doric

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Kelvin Hall Glasgow

Glasgow University

Glasgow School of Art

George Square Glasgow

Glasgow Cathedral

City Chambers Glasgow

Tolbooth Steeple

Central Station

Subway Clockwork Orange

Botanic Gardens Glasgow

Sauchiehall Street Glasgow

Glasgow Science Centre

Some poems in Glaswegian and Scottish to let you practice the lingo.

Robert Burns - for your Burns Supper

Selkirk Grace
Some hae meat and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat, and we can eat,
Sae let the Lord be thankit.

Address to a Haggis.
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o need,
While thro your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
'Bethankit' hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi perfect sconner,
Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit:
Thro bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like taps o thrissle.

Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies:
But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!

Scottish Poems from No' Rabbie Burns by Stuart McLean:

A Hundred of Us Remain Alive

Chorus:
Honest men, let us fight for freedom,
Let us rise and be a nation once more,
Honest men, let us fight for freedom,
But maybe no’ ‘til East Enders is o’er.

Our history is slowly melting,
Washed away by the anaesthetic drips,
Of soap operas, computer games,
Instant coffee, burgers and chips.

The Highland Clearances no longer fires our rage,
The Declaration of Arbroath no longer fuels our pride,
Now we only don the kilt for weddings,
To smile at the camera and kiss the bride.

For centuries we fought for our wee bit hill and glen,
Rejoiced every victory and mourned each cruel defeat,
Now our only rebellious act is switching channel,
While the wife is watching Coronation Street.

At Bannockburn we stood strong and showed our might,
We died at Culloden but not without a bloody fight,
Now our patriotism is confined to the football stadium,
Accepting defeat as if it were our right.

O, Robert the Bruce where are you now?
Prince Charlie will your wife not let you come?
Or are there not a hundred of us remain alive,
Would even give up the telly to fight for our freedom?

A Gay's a Man for A' That

Is there for honest policy
That hings its head, an a' that?
The coward politician, we pass him by -
We dare be queer for a' that!
For a' that, an a' that!
Our ways obscure, an a' that,
Marriage is but the guinea's stamp,
The gay's the gowd for a' that.

What though on ‘homo’ fare we dine,
Wear shocking pink, an a' that?
Gie fools their thrills, and knaves their wives -
A gay's a man for a' that.
For a' that, an a' that,
Their tinsel show, an a' that,
The honest gay, tho’ e'er sae queer,
Is queen o’ men for a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may
(As come it will for a' that),
That Liberty and Charity o'er a' the earth,
Shall bear the gree an a' that.
For a' that, an a' that,
It's coming yet for a' that,
That gay to gay, the world, o'er
Shall brithers be for a' that.