Tomorrow night around the world tributes to the life and works of Robert Burns will be held, through the ritual of the Burns Supper. Originally started a few years after his death by a group of his friends and acquaintances to honour his memory, the suppers are now celebrated annually on the date of his birth, 25th January.
No Burns Supper would be complete without the haggis, the dram of whisky, the songs, the recitals, occasionally the dancing and always the fun.
He had such a way with words … Robbie Burns, a man of words, a poet, a romantic, an orator of his time … a master of communication.
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 bonie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry.
No doubt if, he were alive today, he would join us in the celebrations with a wee dram himself!
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