O my luve is like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonny 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;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only love,
And fare thee weel, awhile!
And I will come again, my love
Though it were ten thousand mile.
I've known this poem for years but for some reason I've only just realised how beautiful it is. It's always nice to find passion where you least expect it. Apparently Russell Brand once drunkenly recited this ode with a random Scot he met in an off-licence in London's Soho in the wee hours. It's random moments like that which make life more interesting. Some of my favourite anecdotes involve Soho, drink, and impromptu encounters. Hmmm. Maybe I need to get out more.
Tonight Wine Lover, She of the Handbag and I are embarking on a five course Burns night supper in celebration of the bard. I am quite sure there will be a rousing chorus of auld lang syne from the three of us at some point, whether the rest of the pub joins in or not, even though it's nowhere near New Year's Eve. It's the only Scottish song I know, and, even more relevantly, the only other Rabbie Burns creation I know and will still remember after the inevitable 49 bottles of wine have been consumed.