Michael Newton

“Ode to the Snuff Box This is a Gaelic poem in praise of a snuff box that was originally printed in 1780 but may be older. Fàilt’ ort fhéin, a bhogais ’S do chleite mhath maille riut: Tombàca math biorach donn Chuireas braim á gearran. Air a lomadh, air a phronnadh, Air a chur ri teine; Seachnaidh e an t-sròn ’S ruigidh e an t-eanchainn; Bheir e an t-anam ’s a’ chaillich A chaill e bho chionn seachd bliadhna. Chan eil airc fuail na tionndadh bramaich No gnè galair tha ’n aorabh duine Nach cuir e ás a dheòin no a dh’aindeoin. Seo ort, a shròn, Freagair, a thòn! Math am pliobairnich, snaoisean – Amen, a bhogsa. Welcome to you, O box And your good powder along with you: Good, sharp, brown tobacco Which causes a workhorse to fart. Stripped, crushed and roasted: It will sidestep the nose And reach the brain: It will revive the spirit of the old woman Who lost it seven years previous. There is no disease of the blood Or repeated swelling Or any nature of sickness In a person’s constitution That it will not destroy With or without its co-operation. This is for you, O nose, Make your response, O buttocks! Snuff is great stuff – Amen, O box.”
― Michael Newton, The Naughty Little Book of Gaelic: All the Scottish Gaelic You Need to Curse, Swear, Drink, Smoke and Fool Around