O, my luve is like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June: O , my luve is like a melodie, That's sweetly played in tune... Robert Burns
" Will you open, with satisfaction and delight, a letter from a man who loves you, who has loved you and who will love you to death, through death, and forever " ... Robert Burns to Agnes McLehose.
Roll over Beethoven, Rod Stewart and Giovanni Casanova, Scotland's Immortal Poet Robert Burns, bellies up to the bar as the most remarkable lover of the centuries. With 244 odd years of romancing endurance, I'd attest that in this millennium he's a rock star icon.
While researching for my February Concert, a Scottish Song Book fell open, at " Ye Banks and Braes", it was at that particular moment, my heart set to afluttering. I became enarmoured by the romantic prose and music of Robert Burns, born January 25, 1759 in rural Ayreshire, Scotland.
Pondering the pictures of his likeness, was an enjoyable addition to my journey as I hummed haunting melodies, read a myriad of poetic genius and sang until I cried, with his " Ae Fond Kiss ".( http://www.uua.org/uuhs/duub/articles/ro...
Ae fond kiss and then we severe!
Ae fareweel, and then forever!
Deep in heart wrung tears, I'll pledge thee
Waring sighs and groans, I'll wage thee.
Robert's father, William Burns, insisted upon the scholarly education of classical literature and writing lessons for his children. But, instinctively, it was the lilting voice of Burns' mother, Agnes, that united the historical fractions of Robert Burns poetry with music.
After the Reformation when secular music and Scottish airs fell into near obscurity, Mr. Burns regarded the task of collecting musical fragments and titles as national heritage, thus his personal vocation in life was caste .
Robert Burns thought of himself as a songwriter. He was educated and sensitive to the basic essence of a melody that he could re-create from mere fragments.
Unknown to many people is the fact, that Robert Burn was a fiddler, who could read and write music. He wrote his songs as songs and his poems as poems. Essentially all the words of the songs are written by Burns. The tunes seem to be alittle more varied in their complete origins.
His real Song-making secret, was to listen to the traditional melody, whistle the tune, hum the song or recite the fragment of a title or phrase over and over in head, then wait for devine intervention.
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