A Red ，Red Rose
Robert Burns
June 7, 2005 (Press Release) --
O my luve is like a red, red rose,
　That's newly sprung in June;
O my luve is like the melodie
　That's sweetly played in tune.
As fair thou art, my bonie lass,
　So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
　Till a' the seas gang dry.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
　And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
And I will luve thee still , my dear,
　While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only luve,
　And fare thee weel a while;
And I will come again, my luve,
　Tho'it wre ten thousand mile!
　That's newly sprung in June;
O my luve is like the melodie
　That's sweetly played in tune.
As fair thou art, my bonie lass,
　So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
　Till a' the seas gang dry.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
　And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
And I will luve thee still , my dear,
　While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only luve,
　And fare thee weel a while;
And I will come again, my luve,
　Tho'it wre ten thousand mile!
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