April 14: No response yet to my comment on the turn at Micahel Treune's blog. Gotta work today so this entry won't have much. Just the famous Robert Burns poem below--because I want to know where the turn in it is. If there is one, my suspicion that any text whatever will inevitably have a turn in it will be confirmed.
My Luve
O my luve is like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my luve is like the melodie,
That's sweetly played in tune.
As fair art though, my bonie 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;
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 a while!
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
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