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Apr 19, 2010

A Red, Red Rose

My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose
Thats Newly Sprung In June:
My Love Is Like The Melody
Thats Sweetly Played In Tune.

As Fair Art Thou, My Bonnie Lass,
So Deep In Love Am I,
And I Will Love Thee Still, My Dear,
Til A' The Seas Gang Dry.

Til A' The Seas Gang Dry, My Dear,
And The Rocks Melt Wi' The Sun:
And I Will Love The Still, My Dear,
While The Sands O' Life Shall Run.

And Fair Thee Well, My Only Love,
And Fair Thee Well A While!
And I Will Come Again My Love,
Thou' It Were Ten Thousand Mile.

- Robert Burns

1 comment:

  1. somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
    any experience,your eyes have their silence:
    in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
    or which i cannot touch because they are too near

    your slightest look will easily unclose me
    though i have closed myself as fingers,
    you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
    (touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

    or if your wish be to close me, i and
    my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
    as when the heart of this flower imagines
    the snow carefully everywhere descending;
    nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
    the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
    compels me with the color of its countries,
    rendering death and forever with each breathing

    (i do not know what it is about you that closes
    and opens;only something in me understands
    the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
    nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
    e.e. cummings

    Ever read his work? One of my favorites!