James Frater, CNN
Edinburgh, Scotland (CNN) — As “Auld Lang Syne” takes its annual spin around the globe on New Year’s Eve, its chorus belted out by revelers young and old, Edinburgh’s Poet Laureate Michael Pedersen says the song’s enduring power lies not in tradition alone, but in its uncanny ability to bind people together.
Pedersen, a prize-winning Scottish poet and author who is the current Writer in Residence at the University of Edinburgh and the city’s Makar, or Poet Laureate, told CNN that the song’s customary rendition at midnight on December 31 was never formally ordained — it simply felt right.
“For generations, it’s been sung at New Year because it’s perfect for it,” he said. “There’s nothing in the song that dictates it should be sung then. People just had an emotional compass for it. They gathered outside town halls and sang it, and it drifted — like a great, beautiful glacier of song — into that New Year position.”
Despite its popularity, few would claim to know all the words to the song, first written down by Robert Burns in 1788 – but that has done little to dent its appeal.
The phrase “auld lang syne” translates loosely to “old, long since,” though Pedersen says a modern equivalent would be “for old times’ sake.” At its heart, he said, the song is “a tale that looks back at childhood friendship, rekindled with a handshake and a goodwill drink.”
“It’s a song of reunion, not parting,” he added. “It’s about celebrating happy days gone by and the glorious bonfire in the belly when you come back together.”
International appeal
As a Scotsman, watching the song circle the planet each year feels like “sending out the Scottish bat signal,” Pedersen said.
“Auld Lang Syne is very much born in Scotland, though it’s become the ultimate international citizen,” he said. “Everyone has made it their own. What a beautiful expression of art and humanity — to write something national and deeply personal, and have people project their own lives into it.”
Part of its staying power, he argues, is physical. The song isn’t just sung — it’s performed.
“It happens at such beautiful moments: the end of the year, weddings, big gatherings,” he said. “You join hands, you form a circle, you create a physical expression of friendship. Most people hum through the verses and come in strong on the chorus, and it pulls us all together. It’s a mellifluous, song-sized hug that’s survived the centuries.”
As for the choreography, Pedersen says the arm‑crossing moment comes later than many think.
“Traditionally, you hold hands for the first five verses,” he said. “Then on the fifth, everyone crosses their arms, still holding their neighbors’ hands, and runs in and out of the circle. Of course, culprits and rogues will run in at various points — that’s part of the beauty, the calamity of it.”
Authorship is a ‘mellifluous mystery’
The question of authorship remains one of Scottish literature’s most enduring debates. Robert Burns claimed he merely wrote down a version he heard in a coaching inn, later adapting it to fit a tune.
“We have no evidence of how much he adapted,” Pedersen said. “It could have been a word or two, or a massive Burns rewrite.”
Burns’ publisher, George Thomson, altered the music again after the poet’s death, producing the melody known today.
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