1. |
An Capaillín Bán
03:07
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Mo chreach is mo chás ‘sé an bás a thagann go trom,
Nuair a leagtar ar lár an chara gur mhaith linn bheith buan,
Ní le fearaibh, le mnáibh ná le buachaillíbh ‘ bhaineann mo dhán,
Ach le láirín droch-mhianaigh ar a nglaodís An Capaillín Bán.
In Uíbh Laoghaire na nGaortha ‘sea a chaith sise a saol,
Níor fhás sí puinn riamh mar ba dhual di ó gach taobh dá gaol,
Gidh gur mó mála coirce is mine a dh’th sí go slan,
Is fíor bheag dá chomhartha a bhí ar chraiceann an Chapaillín Bháin.
Do bhí ciall na n-ocht nduine chliste i gceann a’ láirín,
D’ aithneófadh sí an difir a bhí idir droch cheól is ceól binn,
Ar filleadh ó Mháchromtha abhaile buail suas amhrán,
‘S ní bhéarfadh gaoth anoir nó aneas ar an gCapaillín mBán
English Translation:
My destruction and ruin that death has come so heavily
When a friend has passed on who we wish would have stayed
Not for a man, woman or child do I raise my song
But for a bad-tempered mare they called The Little White Pony.
In Uíbh Laoghaire na nGaortha is where she spent all her life,
She never grew even a pound bigger as did all of her relations,
Although she ate much more than one bag of oats and flour heartily
Small indeed was the hide you'd find on the Little White Pony.
The sense of the eight wisest men was in her wee head,
She could even tell the difference between bad and sweet music,
On returning home from Macroom we'd hit up a song,
And the East or South wind wouldn't blow on the Little White Pony
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2. |
an Ciarraíoch Mallaithe
03:17
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‘Má leanaim go dian tú siar chun Cairbreach,
Caillfead mo chiall mara dtriallfair abhaile liom,
Óró, bead ag sileadh na ndeor.’
‘’S ná tar im dheoidh gan mórchuid airgid,
Stampaí Rí Shacsan go cruinn i dtaisce agat,
Óró, i gcomhair chostas an róid.’
‘Ní bheidh cloig ar ár ndoirne ó rómhar na ngarraithe,
Ná ó chruachadh na móna ná an fómhar á leathadh orainn,
Beidh rince fada againn más é is fearra leat,
Ór is airgead, ól is beathuisce,
Óró, fad a mhairfimid beo.’
Nuair a bhraith an aoileann an oíche tagtha,
Is ná fuair sí istigh ná amuigh sa gharraí mé,
Óró, do chas olagón.
Do phreab sí ina suí, ag caoineadh a cuid airgid,
Dá rá gur mheallas-sa a croí lem' chleasannaibh,
Óró, fad a mhairfidh sí beo.
Éirígí a chairde, ní foláir nó go leanfam é
Cuardóm na bánta 'gus ard na
ngarraithe,
Don gCiarraíoch mallaithe, a mheall mo chuid airgid,
Lena bhréithre bladair, ag diúgadh an chnagaire,
Óró, is ná feadar cá ngeobhad.
English Translation:
If I follow you diligently west to Carbary,
I’ll lose my mind if you don’t go home with me,
Óró, I’ll be shedding tears.
Don't come after me without plenty money,
The real stamp of the king of England in your keeping.
Óró, for the costs of the journey.
There won’t be blisters on our fists from digging the fields,
Nor from heaping the turf nor the autumn sun shining on us.
We'll have the long dance if that's what you want,
Gold and silver, drink and whiskey.
Óró, as long as we live.
When the maid noticed that the night had arrived,
And she didn’t find me inside or out in the garden,
Óró, she sang a lament.
She jumped up and lamented the loss of her money,
Saying that I wooed her heart with my tricks,
Óró, for as long as she lives.
"Arise my friends, I must follow him,
I’ll search the grasslands and the hillock with the fields,
For that cursed Kerryman, who attracted my money,
With his flattering words, while draining the naggin,
Óró, and I don’t know where I’ll find him."
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3. |
Aisling Gheal
04:41
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Aisling gheal do shlad trí mo néal mé
’S go rabhas-sa tréithlag seal im luí,
’S go rabhas i ngleann cois abhann im aonar,
’S go rabhas ag aeraíocht le grá mo chroí,
Go raibh na camthaí Gall agus Gaelach
Is claimhte géara ag uaisle an tsaoil,
Ag breith barr áidh is á rá le chéile
Go raibh clann an Fhaoitigh anois le fáil gan mhoill.
Ba ghearr a shamhail dhom gur dhearcas-sa Mary
’Gus gruaig a cinn léi go féar ag fás,
A folt ag teacht mar na réaltainn
Ag titim léise go barr a troighe,
Ag siúl na drúchta de bharr an fhéir ghlais
’S is lúfar éadrom mar a shiúladh sí,
A dá chíoch chruinne ar a hucht go néata,
A grua mar chaortha, is ba gheal í a píb.
Do bheannaíos-sa do mo chuid i nGaolainn
Is is modhúil ’s is maorga do fhreagair sí,
‘A phlúr na bhfear, mo shlad ná deinse
Mar is maighdean mé nár tháinig d’aois,
Dhá dtéadh sa ghreann dúinn clann a dhéanamh
’S go mbeifeá séantach ins an ghníomh,
Gur gearr ón mbás mé, is go bhfágfainn Éire
I mo ghóist im aonar bheinn romhat id shlí.’
English Translation:
A vision bright beguiled in sleep me
As I lay feebly bereft of cheer
Of a river valley, where I wandered aimlessly
In conversation with my true love dear
On the hosts of invaders, and the hosts of Ireland
In battle baring their sword and spear
And the word went out in loud lamentation
That the Day of Judgement was now drawing near
Soon I realized that I was looking at Mary
With shining hair falling to the ground
Her flowing tresses like stars cascading
Falling in waves down to her ankles
Sweeping the dew off the meadow
And softly stepping with footsteps light
Her two round breasts on her chest
Her cheeks like berries and her neck was white
And when I greeted her in my share of Gaelic
In manner most gracious she did reply
"Oh flower of men, do not abuse me
For I am still young in my years
And if our pleasure conceived a child
And your part then you should deny
I would leave Ireland and death would face me
And my ghost would plague you all through your life"
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David James McCallum Vancouver, British Columbia
Born in Sudbury Ontario and raised in Argyle Township and North Bay, David is a singer songwriter residing in North Bay, Ontario. He has released several albums of Hip Hop as MC Corvid and Punk Rock with his band Tall Pork, and sings traditional Gaelic and Irish songs. The acoustic solo work featured here is a dark yet often humorous mix of folk, country and punk written and recorded at home ... more
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