GAELIC HEART
An Eala Bhàn
The White Swan
Gur duilich leam mar tha mi
'S mo chridhe 'n sàs aig bròn
Bhon an uair a dh'fhàg mi
Beanntan àrd a' cheò
Gleanntannan a'mhànrain
Nan loch, nam bàgh 's nan sròm
'S an eala bhàn tha tàmh ann
Gach latha air 'm bheil mi 'n tòir.
A Mhagaidh na bi tùrsach
A rùin, ged gheibhinn bàs-
Cò am fear am measg an t-sluaigh
A mhaireas buan gu bràth?
Chan eil sinn uile ach air chuairt
Mar dhìthein buaile fàs
Bheir siantannan na blianna sios
'S nach tog a' ghrian an àird.
Tha 'n talamh leir mun cuairt dhìom
'Na mheallan suas 's na neòil;
Aig na 'shells a' bualadh -
Cha leir dhomh bhuam le ceò:
Gun chlaisneachd aig mo chluasan
Le fuaim a' ghunna mhòir;
Ach ged tha 'n uair seo cruaidh orm
Tha mo smuaintean air NicLeòid.
Air m' uilinn anns na truinnsichean
Tha m' inntinn ort, a ghràidh;
Nam chadal bidh mi a' bruadar ort
Cha dualach dhomh bhith slàn;
Tha m' aigne air a lionadh
Le cianalas cho làn
'S a'ghruag a dh'fhàs cho ruadh orm
A nis air thuar bhith bàn.
Ach ma thig an t-àm
Is anns an Fhraing gu faigh mi bàs
'S san uaigh gun tèid mo shìneadh
Far eil na mìltean chàch,
Mo bheannachd leis a' ghruagaich,
A' chaileag uasal bhàn -
Gach là a dh'fhalbh gun uallach dhi,
Gun nàire gruaidh na dhàil.
Oidhche mhath leat fhèin, a rùin
Nad leabaidh chùbhraidh bhlàth;
Cadal sàmhach air a chùl
Do dhùsgadh sunndach slàn.
Tha mise 'n seo 's an truinnsidh fhuar
'S nam chluasan fuaim bhàis
Gun duil ri faighinn às le buaidh -
Tha 'n cuan cho buan ri shnàmh.
Translation:
Sad I consider my condition
With my heart engaged with sorrow
From the very time that I left
The high bens of the mist
The little glens of dalliance
Of the lochs, the bays and the forelands
And the white swan dwelling there
Whom I daily pursue.
O Maggie, don't be sad
Love, if I should die -
Who among men
Endures eternally?
We are all only on a journey
Like flowers in the deserted cattle fold
That the year's wind and rain will bring down
And that the sun cannot raise.
All the ground around me
Is like hail in the heavens;
With the shells exploding -
I am blinded by smoke:
My ears are deafened
By the roar of the cannon;
But despite the savagery of the moment
My thoughts are on the girl called MacLeod.
Crouched in the trenches
My mind is fixed on you, love;
In sleep I dream of you
I am not fated to survive;
My spirit is filled
With a surfeit of longing
And my hair once so auburn
Is now almost white.
But if it should happen
That I am killed in France
And laid in the grave
As thousands are already,
My blessings go with the maiden,
So noble and fair.
May her every day be free of care,
And her life a source of pride.
Goodnight to you, love
In your warm, sweet-smelling bed;
May you have peaceful sleep and afterwards
May you waken healthy and in good spirits.
I am here in the cold trench
With the clamour of death in my ears
With no hope of returning victorious-
The ocean is too wide to swim.
Ghruagach Òg An Fhuilt Bhain
Young Fair-haired Maid
Gruagach òg an fhuilt bhàin
Éisd ri bàrdachd mo bhilean
Thoir dhomh gealladh thar chaìch
'S air do sgàtha ni mi tilleadh
Ged 's iomadh té 's an robh m'ùigh
Anns gach dùthaich is cinnead
O nach aontaich thu leam
'S mi bhiodh sunndach 'gad shireadh
Ged theireadh do chàirdean
Gur tràth thug mi'n gealladh
Do gruagach òg an fhuilt bhàin
A chaidh àrach am Barraidh
'S iomadh fear anns gach àit'
Rinn a nàdur a mhealladh
Co bheir maorach á tràigh
Nuair tha'n làn air tigh'nn thairis
'S truagh nach robh mi mar eun
Ite sgiathan gun ghiorradh
'S mi gun siùbhladh an iarmailt
'S mi nach iarradh gu tillead
Bu mhór m'aighear 's mo shunnd
Togail cùrs' thar gach linne
'S nuair a dhealaicheadh tu rium
Bhiodh mo shùilean a' sileadh
Chaidh do chliu chur an dà
'S tha do chànan aig filidh
Chaidh do thogail is t'árach
Ann am fàsaichean Uibhist
'S e gaol carraig nan àl
Leanas nàdur an duine
'S tu mo reul fad gach làtha
'S bidh mo ghràdh far an suidh thu
Translation:
Young fair-haired maid
Listen to my poem
Give me a promise forsaking all others
And I will do the same for you
Although there were many women in my affections
In every land and clan
Oh won't you yield to me
And I would be happy to fulfill your desires
Although your relatives warned
That I gave my promise too young
To the fair-haired maid
Who was brought up in Barra
Many men in every place
Tried to entice her
Who would gather shellfish from the shore
When the tide comes in
If only I were like a bird
With unclipped wings and feathers
Travelling through the skies
Not wanting to return without you
How happy and peaceful I would be
Making my way across the sea
And when you would give me your promise
My tears would flow
Your praises have been sung in song
And the poets speak your language
You were born and reared
In the wilderness of Uist
It is the yearning for a strong tie
That grips man's nature
And you are my star throughout every day
And my love will be wherever you shine
Sine Bhàn
Fair Jean
Blàth nan cailin, Sìne Bhàn
Reul nan nighean, dìleas òg,
Cuspair dìomhair i dom dhàn,
Gràdh mo chridh', an rìbhinn òg.
Àros sona bh' againn thall
Àirigh mhonaidh, innis bhò.
Sgaoil ar sonas uainn air ball
Mar roinneas gaoth nam fuar-bheann ceò.
Bruaillean cogaidh anns an tìr
Faic an long a' togail sheòl,
Cluinn an druma 's fuaim na pìob
Faic na suinn a' dol air bòrd.
Feumaidh mise triall gun dàil
Chi mi 'm bàrr a croinne sròl.
M' eudail bhàn, o soraidh slàn
Na caoin a luaidh, na sil na deòir.
Cha ghaoir-cath' no toirm a' chàs'
Dh'fhàg min dràsd' fo gheilt is bròn
'S e na dh'fhàg mi air an tràigh,
Sìne Bhàn a rinn mo leòn.
Sìnte 'n seo air achadh blàir,
'S duine 'mhàin cha tig nam chòir
O, 's nach robh mi anns an Àird
Le Sine Bhàn a' ruith nam bò.
Ma tha e 'n dàn mi bhith slàn
Stadaidh ràn nan gunnan mòr
Am Baile Mhonaidh nì mi tàmh
Le Sìne Bhàn, mo rìbhinn òg.
Translation:
Flower of the girls, fair Jean
Star of maidens, faithful and young
Secret subject of my song
Love of my heart, the young lass.
A happy house had we over yonder
A moorland sheiling, cattle pasture
Scattered was our happiness suddenly
As the wind drives the mist from the cold mountains.
The tumult of war was in the land
See the ship raising sail
Hear the drum and the sound of the pipes
See the heroes going on board.
If it my fate to keep my health
When the sound of the big guns will cease
In Baile Mhonaidh I will stay
With fair Jean, my young lass.
Táladh Chriosda
Christ Child Lullaby
Mo ghaol, mo ghràdh, is m'eudail thu
M'iunntas ùr is m'eibhneas thu
Chan thiù mi-fhèin bhith'd dhàil.
Chorus:
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia etc.
'S tusa grian gheal an dòchais
Chuireas dorchadas air fògairt
Bher thu clann-daoin bho staid bhrònaich
Gu naomhachd, soileireachd is eòlas.
Mo ghaol an t-sùil a sheallas tlàth
Mo ghaol an cridh tha liont' le gràdh
Ged is leanabh thu gun chàil
Is lìonmhor buaidh tha ort a'fàs.
Translation:
My love, my dear, my darling Thou
My new treasure and my joy art Thou
My beautiful fair Son art Thou
I am unworthy to be near thee.
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia etc.
Thou art the white sun of hope
Who wil banish darkness from us
Manking Thou wilt redeem from sorrow
To sanctity, light and knowledge.
My love with the gentle eyes
My darling whose heart is filled with love
Although you are only but a child
Many are the qualities bestowed upon you.
Griogal Cridhe
Griogal of My Heart
'Siomadh oidhche fhliuch is thioram
Side nan seachd sian
Gheibheadh griogal dhomhsa creagan
Ris an gabhainn dion.
Chorus:
Obhan, obhan, obhan iri
Obhan, iri o
Obhan, obhan, obhan iri
'S mòr mo mhulad, 's mor.
Èudail mhòir de shluagh an domhain
Dhòirt iad t'fhuil an dè
'S chuir iad do cheann air stob daraich
Tacan beag bho'd chre.
B'annsa bhi le griogal cridhe
'Tearnadh chruidh le gleann
Na le baran mor an Dalach
Sìoda geal mu m'cheann.
'Nuair bhios mnathan òg a'bhaile
Nochd 'nan cadal sèimh
'S ann bhios mis' air bruaich do lice
Bualadh mo dha laimh.
Translation:
Many a night of rain or fair
Or tempest raging wild
Gregor would find me a rock
And shelter from the storm.
Obhan, obhan, obhan iri
Obhan, iri o
Obhan, obhan, obhan iri
Great is my grief and great.
Most loved of all men in the world
They shed thy blood since yesterday
On oaken stake, they set thy head
Near where thy body lay
Far rather would I be with Gregor
Herding down the glen
Than with the great Baron of Dull
And white silk round my head.
When other women lie tonight
In peaceful slumber still.
Beside thy grave there shall I lie
Smiting my two hands.
Tuireadh Iain Ruaidh
Iain Ruadh's Lament
Thug thu dhioms' a ghrian 'san speur
Faill ill o hug o ro è
Spion thu asam mùirn mo chlèibh
Faill ill o hug o ro èile'.
Gheall mo ghràdh dhomh sìoda's sròl
Còmhdach rìomhach's seudan òir
Gheall e mire's blasdachd beòil
'S caithream chlàr a dhùisgeas òrain.
Fuar a chrè air rèidh a bhlàir
Fàth mo bhròin is cùis mo chràidh
Diomhain deòir a'ruith chun làir
Diomhain crìdh' nach diùltadh annsachd.
Cò o'm faigh mi biadh air bòrd
Thrèig mo shòlad 's m'àilleachd neòil
Thrèig mo stiùir, mo ràmh, mo sheòl
Dh'imich saoidh nan dualan òr-bhuidh.
Translation:
You deprived me of the sun in the sky
Faill ill o hug o ro è
You plucked away from me my heart's joy
Faill ill o hug o ro èile'.
My lover promised me silk and satin
Beautiful garments, gold jewels
He promised merriment and sweet talk
A symphony of harps to entice to song.
Cold his corpse on the smooth field
The cause of my sorrow, the reason for my pain
Tears falling to the ground are useless
A heart that would not refuse a loved one is ieffectual too.
Who will provide food for my table
Happiness and beautry of the sky have gone from me
My rudder, my oar, my sail have gone
The hero with the golden locks has departed.
Soraidh Le Eilean A' Cheò
Farewell to The Isle of Skye
Soraidh leis an àit an d'fhuair mi m'àrach òg
Eilean nam beann àrda far an tàmh an ceò
Air am moch a dhèireas grian nan spèur fo ròs
A' fuadach neul na h-oidhce, soillseachadh an Stòir
Cur m'aghaidh ri Glaschu, b'airneulach mo cheum
Cur mo chùil ri càirdean nochd am bàidh cho treun
Ghluais ur buadhan nàdur ann an gràdh dha chèil
Shruth mo dheoìr a bhan is dh'fhàilnich guth mo bhèul.
'S aoibhneach Eilean Asgrab, fàilteachadh nan tonn
'S uaibhreach creagan Gheàrraidh 's àilean os an cionn
Suas gun ruig thu'm Fàsach far an tamh an sonn
Stein is Sgor a'Bhàigh, an t-ait' as aille fonn.
Seallanna bu bhreàgha riamh cha'n fhaca sùil
Sprèidh a mach gam feurach madainn ghrianach chiùin
'N uiseag air a sgiath seinn gun fhiamh a ciùil
'S an ceò mu cheann Beinn Tianabhaig is an sliabh fo dhriùchd.
Translation:
Farewell to the place where I spent my youth
Island of the high mountains where the mist rests
On which rises early the rose-coloured sun in the sky
Chasing away the clouds of night, iluminating the Storr.
Turning my face to Glasgow, sorrowful are my footsteps
Turning my back on friends, tonight their love is so powerful
Our natural talents surge in love together
My tears fall down and my voice fails me.
Joyous are the Ascrib Islands saluting the waves
Proud are the rocks of Geary with the woods above them
Upwards until you reach Fasach where the heroes rest
Stein and Scorbay, a place of the most beautiful ground.
Sights more beautiful the eye could never see
Cattle out grazing on a peaceful sunny morning
The lark on the wing singing confidently her music
The mist around Beinn Tianabhaigh and the mountain under dew.
Mairead Og
Young Margaret
O Righ nan dùl, cùm rium mo chiall
Cha robh mi riamh `s a'chunnart seo
Mi'n diugh 'san dè air cnoc leam fhèin
A'sileadh dhèur `s mi turraman.
`Si mo mhàthair rinn an call
`N uair chuir I shealg na funnaig mi
`S nuair ràinig mi an linne chaol
`S ann bha mo ghaol a'sruladh innt'.
`S e'n gunna caol a rinn mo leòn
Cha feid e òirleach tuilleadh leam
`S an fè rinn dhoms' an lèine chaol
Cha dean thu ghaoil gin tuille dhomh.
Ged théid mi suas do'n bhail' ud shuas
Cha bhi mo chuairt ach diomain ann
Air ieabaidh làir, chan fhaigh mi tàmh
`S air ieubaidh àrd cha chiúir iad mi.
O Mhairead òg, `stu rinn ma leòn
`S tu dh'fàg fo bhròn `s fo mhulad mi
`S tu`s guirme suil `s a mhadainn chiùin
Nan dearc air chùl nan duilleagan.
Translation:
O King of the universe, keep me sane
I was never before in this danger
Yesterday and today, on a hill by myself
I wept while rocking to and fro.
It was my mother who caused this awful loss
When she sent me to hunt duck
When I arrived at the narrow pool
It was my love was bathing there.
It was the narrow gun which caused my pain
I will never take it with me again
And she who made for me the linen shirt
Will never make me another.
Although I should go up to that village
My visit will be but fleeting
I will not get rest on a floor bed
And they will not put me on a hogh bed.
Oh, young Margaret, you have caused my grief
You have left me sad and sorrowful
Your eyes are bluer in the calm morning
Than the berry behind the leaves.