O my Luve's like a red, red rose

File: Robert Burns

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'd 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,   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 Luve!   And fare thee weel a while! And I will come again, my Luve,   Tho' it were ten thousand mile.

Tá mo ghrása ar nós an róisín Tá mo ghrása ar nós an róisín   A bhláthaíonn i mí Iúil Tá mo ghrása ar nós an tsiansa   Is é á sheinnt i dtiúin. Is deas ataoi, a ainnir shéimh   Is táim go mór i ngrá: Beidh grá agamsa duit go deo   Go mbeidh an mhuir gan trá. Go mbeidh an mhuir gan trá, a chuid,   Is na clocha féin á leá Mo chroí id chroíse beidh go brách -   An mhil atá sa mheá. Mo shoraidh slán, a stóirín bán   Mo chúig chéad slán, a rún! Is tiocfad chugat arís, a ghrá,   Ag marcaíocht nó ag siúl.