Friday, February 11, 2011

A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns

O, my love is like a red, red rose,
That is newly sprung in June.
O, my love is like the melody,
That is sweetly played in tune.

As fair are you, my lovely lass,
So deep in love am I,
And I will love you still, my Dear,
Till all the seas go dry.

Till all the seas go dry, my Dear,
And the rocks melt with the sun!
O I will love you still, my Dear,
While the sands of life shall run.

And fare you well, my only Love,
And fare you well a while!
And I will come again, my Love,
Although it were ten thousand mile!

Some thoughts...

on this poem - I love the rapture of the third stanza - a love that will last for a lifetime, and longer.

on the poet - Burns was an eighteenth century Scottish poet, the son of a struggling tenant-farmer. Though educated in classic English Literature, he was in love with traditional Scottish folklore and ballads, and many of his poems were written in the Scottish dialect (as was this poem originally).

No comments: