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作词 : Robert Burns
作曲 : traditonal
O my luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'ed in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie 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,
Till a'the seas gang dry;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a'the seas gang dry.
Till a'the seas gang dry my, 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 awhile!
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho'it were ten thousand mile.
Tho'it were ten thousand mile, my luve,
Tho'it were ten thousand mile;
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho'it were ten thousand mile.
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho'it were ten thousand mile.
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