Êcôsse flieuthie - Flower of Scotland

J'avêmes proposé qu'tchitchun faiche eune vèrsion Jèrriaise dé Flower of Scotland. Eh bein, "châtchun tchi d'mande, èrchait; et châtchun tchi traiche, trouve" et don l'êv'chîn:

We'd suggested that someone make a Jèrriais version of Flower of Scotland. Well, "whoever asks, receives; and whoever seeks, finds" and so here it is:

Êcôsse flieuthie

O Êcôsse flieuthie,
j'èrvèrrons-t-i'
du monde d'ité,
tch'ont litté, mouothi
pouor tes monts et vallées,
meûtîns et mâtés
contre Douard et s'n armée,
tchi l'ont êcârré
pouor s'raviser.

Tes monts sont stembris,
achteu muets et nus
et êffieillis,
chu chièr tèrrain pèrdu
siez les cheins tch'ont litté,
meûtîns et mâtés,
contre Douard et s'n armée,
tchi l'ont êcârré
pouor s'raviser.

V'là tch'est l'temps pâssé,
ch'est d'èrnonchi
ches duthes journées,
mais j'pouôrrons avanchi,
j'èrs'sons chu monde èrgrées,
meûtîns et mâtés
contre Douard et s'n armée,
tchi l'ont êcârré
pouor s'raviser.

Flower of Scotland

O Flower of Scotland,
When will we see
Your like again,
That fought and died for,
Your wee bit Hill and Glen,
And stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
To think again.

The Hills are bare now,
And Autumn leaves
lie thick and still,
O'er land that is lost now,
Which those so dearly held,
That stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
To think again.

Those days are past now,
And in the past
they must remain,
But we can still rise now,
And be the nation again,
That stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
To think again.