Was sind die ersten wörter die euch zu schottland einfallen?

...komplette Frage anzeigen

13 Antworten

Mir fällt dazu ein:

bagpipes, Loch Ness, kilts, Whiskey, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen, Loch Lomond, Orkney, Shetland, Inverness, Hogmanay

:-) AstridDerPu

kujapper 26.11.2010, 20:48

AstridDerPu, you have made an unforgivable mistake: The Scots are proud of writing their national drink without the "e"_ WHISKY kujapper

Sylboy 27.11.2010, 08:47

...whiskey ist das irische Wort...


Einem 40zig jährigem Mann wie mir fällt spontan dieses ein: Grüne Wiesen, Schafe , Hochland , Dunkles Bier, Guter "malt whiskey" und freundliche, entspannte Menschen. Ich hoffe es hilft Dir weiter. :-)

Dudelsack, Highlander, Loch Ness, Kilt, Sean Connery, Wiskey. (55)

Highlands, Bagpipers, Scottland - the brave, Wiskey, Single Mault, Kelten (27)

grün Wasser Berge Licht Schafe und alte Gemäuer

tossing the timber (Baumstammweitwerfen)


--> haggis

--> kilts

--> Nessie

--> tartan

--> clans

--> Highland Games

--> Mac / Mc

--> Edinburgh

--> Glasgow

--> cattle

--> Ben Nevis

--> Mary Queen of Scots

--> James VI

--> William Wallace (Braveheart)

--> Stirling


Da findest Du doch bestimmt ein paar Ansatzpunkte, um über etwas zu reden.

Viel Spaß mit dem wunderschönen Thema Scotland.

diese röcke wo man nichts drunter zieht.

william wallace (25)

13 Jahre- Dudelsack

highlands, kilt, loch ness, whiskey, scapa flow, kariert, mistwetter (29)

17 J. Hägges :P , Schottenrock, Dudelsack

Schottland? That reminds me of one of my favourite poems: Roberts Burns "Mousie" (er schrieb dieses Gedicht, nachdem er aus Versehen beim Umgraben eine Maus mit seinem Spaten getötet hatte): Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty Wi bickering brattle! I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee, Wi' murdering pattle.

I'm truly sorry man's dominion Has broken Nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor, earth born companion An' fellow mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve; What then? poor beastie, thou maun live! A daimen icker in a thrave 'S a sma' request; I'll get a blessin wi' the lave, An' never miss't.

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin! It's silly wa's the win's are strewin! An' naething, now, to big a new ane, O' foggage green! An' bleak December's win's ensuin, Baith snell an' keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste, An' weary winter comin fast, An' cozie here, beneath the blast, Thou thought to dwell, Till crash! the cruel coulter past Out thro' thy cell.

That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble, Has cost thee monie a weary nibble! Now thou's turned out, for a' thy trouble, But house or hald, To thole the winter's sleety dribble, An' cranreuch cauld.

But Mousie, thou art no thy lane, In proving foresight may be vain: The best laid schemes o' mice an' men Gang aft agley, An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain, For promis'd joy!

Still thou are blest, compared wi' me! The present only toucheth thee: But och! I backward cast my e'e, On prospects drear! An' forward, tho' I canna see, I guess an' fear!


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