A Universal Celebration of Guid-Willie

Every culture celebrates its own new year in its own way.

And in its own time. Not every one ushers in the new year on January 1. Only stout adherents of the Gregorian calendar do that. In the Roman Republic, the new year arrived with the first day of spring, in March, when the sun reaches the vernal equinox. Pope Gregory moved the new year kick off closer to Christmas, in 1582.

The sun’s movement forms the basis of today’s calendar year, and while most of the world has adopted it for convenience sake, many non-Christian cultures still adhere to lunar calendars when it comes to traditional celebrations. For people in China, India and across the Arabic world, the arrival of the new year is based on the phases of the moon and thus, the beginning of lunar new years move about relative to the familiar solar calendar that most of us hang on our wall or link to every morning on the web.

But whenever, and however it’s celebrated, no one rings in the new year with the flair and ambition of the Scots.

The Presbyterian Church regarded Christmas as a solemn observance. Unlike their English neighbours, gifts under the tree and kissing under the mistletoe were not stressed in proper Scottish homes.

Having an English father and a Scottish mother, I always preferred the every-other-Christmas held at the home of my father’s parents. Lots of Christmas gifts those years. But New Year’s Eve was always held at the home of my mother’s parents. Immigrants from Glasgow, they knew how to throw a New Year’s Eve party. Only to them it wasn’t New Year’s Eve, it was “Hogmanay”.

You may not have heard that word before, but you’d be surprised how many traditions that North Americans (of all cultures) observe today, that originated with this Scottish holiday.

For one, the kissing that goes on anxiously as midnight approaches is just the way the Scots make up for all the mistletoe kissing they don’t do at Christmas time. A huge festive meal hosts often serve at New Year’s Eve today is also Scottish in origin, although most hosts nowadays pass on the main course of haggis that Scots make from animal organs, boiled to perfection (?) in a lining of sheep’s stomach.  

The “first footer” is another well-known Scottish tradition, though not exclusive to highlanders. Vietnamese Canadians also have a similar tradition at Tet. In Scottish homes, it’s considered good fortune for a man (preferably not red-haired) to be the first to walk through the door after midnight – especially if he’s carrying a bottle of whiskey and a lump of coal – both for warmth. And people of all cultures sing “Auld Lang Syne” to honour the Caledonian roots of the occasion.

It’s a familiar melody, but the words to the song – penned by Robbie Burns in 1788 – are an enduring mystery to millions who sing the song each year at midnight, with no idea what the words mean.

Burns only adds to the allusiveness of the lyrics for Auld Lang Syne. He intentionally wrote many of his songs and poems phonetically, to emphasize the peculiar brogue of the Atlantic coast region of County Ayr were he was raised. As a result, many of the words in Auld Lang Syne aren’t in the dictionary – Scottish or English.

So without an official thesaurus to go by, thanks go out to “me wee grand-mither”, for the following modern-day translation of the ancient and archaic lyrics to this timeless New Year’s Eve hit song.

First the title itself. Not so hard to understand once you understand the Scots. (And that isn’t easy.) It probably means “old long since”. When we sing about things that should “never be brought to mind,” we think of bad times past that shouldn’t be important to us as we look forward.

The “cup of kindness” is plain enough – at least to those, the morning after, who had too many cups the night before.

The song continues . . .

We twa [two] have run about the braes [hills],

And pou’d [pulled] the gowans [a native Scottish flower] fine,

But we’ve wander’d monie [many] a weary fit,

Sin auld lang syne.

We twa have paidl’d [paddled] in the burn [creek]

Frae [from] morning sun till dine [dinner],

But seas between us braid [broad] hae [have] roar’d

Sin auld lang syne.

And there’s a hand my trusty fiere [friend],

And gie’s [give us] a hand o thine,

And we’ll take a right guid-willie [good will] waught [draught, as in ‘beer’],

For auld lang syne.

A happy new year to all.