Words & translations: Sean nós songs, Roithleán
For those not familiar with sean nós songs, please note that for most of these songs the original composer is unknown. This is due to the fact that the songs were generally not written down (within the communities from which they originated) and were learned by listening. Therefore, there are many different versions of songs, since they naturally changed as they were passed on. This was due to people adding and leaving out verses, and at times, changing or improvising on the tune as well. All of these songs date back to the 19th century - at least, these versions do. The only song for which we know the composer is An Abhainn Mhóir (Séamas Mac Oscair.)
First draft of words and translations by Saileog Ní Cheannabháin. Final proof reading and corrections of the words and translations were provided by Peadar Ó Ceannabháin, October 2016.
Track 5: Uileacán Dubh Ó
Is ó Mhuireann a chuala mé an t-amhráin seo i dtosach, roinnt mhaith bliantaí ó shoin. Ó albam Chaitlín Maude a fuair sí é agus is uaidh sin a d’fhoghlaim mé héin é ina dhiaidh sin. Is cosúil gur chuir Caitlín Maude fonn ‘The Bold Trainer O’ leis an dán, fonn a bhíodh dhá chasadh ag Willie Clancy. Tá go leor cosúlachtaí aige leis an amhrán ‘Plúirín na mBan Donn Óg’.
Muireann was the first person I heard singing this song, a good few years ago. She learned it from a recording of Caitlín Maude and I subsequently learned it from the same source. It appears that Caitlín Maude set the words of the poem to the tune of ‘The Bold Trainer O’ as played by Willie Clancy. The lyrics resemble those of the song ‘Plúirín na mBan Donn Óg.’
I
Dhá dtiocfása liomsa go Contae Liatroma, a Uileacáin Duibh Ó
Bhéarfainnse mil bheach agus meá mar bhia dhuit, a Uileacáin Duibh Ó
Bhéarfainn aer na long, na seol is na mbád dhuit, faoi bharra na dtonn is sinn ag filleadh ón trá
Is ní ligfinnse aon bhrón choíche id' dháil, is gur tú m’Uileacán Dubh Ó.
II
Ní rachaidh mise leat, is níl maith dhuit do m' iarradh, a Uileacáin Duibh Ó
Mar nach gcoinneodh do ghlórtha beo gan bia mé, a Uileacáin Duibh Ó
Míle céad fearr liom 'bheith choíche gan fear, ná 'bheith siúl na drúchta 'gus an fhásaigh leat
Is níor thug mo chroí dhuit grá ná gean, is ní tú m'Uileacán Dubh Ó.
III
Chonaic mé a' tíocht chugam í thrí lár a' tsléibhe, mar réaltan thríd an gceo
Bhínn ag caint is ag comhrá léithe nó go ndeachamar go páirc na mbó
Shuíomar síos i lúib an fhail, go dtug mé di scríofa faoi mo láimh
Nach raibh coir dá ndéanfadh sí nach n-íocfainn a cáin, a Uileacáin Duibh Ó.
Translation:
I
If you were to come with me to County Leitrim, Uileacán Dubh Ó
I’d bring you bee honey and mead for food, Uileacán Dubh ÓLeaving the strand I’d bring to you, on the waves’ surface, the breeze from the ships, sails and boats
And I would never let any sadness near you, Uileacán Dubh Ó.
II
Because without food, your sweet talk would not sustain me, Uileacán Dubh Ó
I would much rather be forever without a man, than to walk the dew and wilderness with you
For my heart never gave you love or affection, and you're not my Uileacán Dubh Ó.
III
I used to talk and converse with her, until we reached the cows’ field
We sat down in the corner of the fold, where I gave her a handwritten promise
That I’d pay the penalty for any crime she’d commit, my Uileacán Dubh Ó.
Track 8: An Abhainn Mhór
Chum Séamas Mac Oscair as ceantar Iorrais i gCo. Mhaigh Eo, an t-amhrán seo thart ar an mbliain 1810. Tá tuilleadh eolais faoi le fáil i nótaí Leabhar Mór na nAmhrán in alt a scríobh Liam Mac Con Iomaire. Is ó m’athair a fuair mé an t-amhrán i dtosach agus go hiondúil bím dhá chasadh leis an bhfonn a chuireann seisean leis. D’airigh mé fonn eile ó shin, ag Brighid Ní Mháille as Ros Toirc in iarthar Mhaigh Eo, fonn a thaitnigh go mór liom, agus thograigh mé é a chasadh leis an bhfonn siúd an uair seo. Taifeadadh Brighid sa mbliain 1930 agus í in aois 70 bliain. Is i mbailiúchán Doegen atá an taifead (féach http://www.doegen.ie).
This song was composed by Séamas Mac Oscair from Erris, Co. Mayo, around the year 1810. More information about the poet and song can be found in Leabhar Mór na n-Amhrán in an account written by Liam Mac Con Iomaire. I first learned the song from my father and usually sing it with his choice of tune. Recently, however, I heard an alternative tune that really appealed to me. It was from Brighid Ní Mháille of Rosturk in west Mayo and I decided to sing it here. At the age of 70, Bríghid was recorded in 1930 for the Doegen collection (http://www.doegen.ie).
I
Bíonn sí ag osnaíl 's ag éagaoin chuile oích' Domhnaigh go mbíonn sé ina lá
Tá a comrádaí sínte i gCill Bhríde 'gus leac ar a cheann
Is tá a mac ina cheann siamsa ar fud na tíre agus jug ina láimh.
II
Ní fhéadaim na málaí seo a ardú ón bpian atá i mo dhroim
I bhfad ó mo chairde is gan áit agam a ligfinn mo scíth
Ach le toil Rí na ngrást, ní bheidh fán orm ach tamall is cén bhrí.
III
Ach tá bean óg ar an méid sin, is ní fhéadaim a hainm a rá
Go n-athraí Loch Éirne is go dtréige an eala a clúmhach bán
Ní inseodh mé go héag cén réasún le go dtug mé dhuit grá.
IV
Nuair a théim go teach an ósta níl aon tseoid ann níos deise ná í
Tá a grua mar an rósa 's bíonn sí ag dóirteadh na meala ar gach taobh
'S an té a bhlaisfeadh dá póigín, 'sé is dóigh liom go mbeadh fad ar a shaol.
V
I gcomhluadar ban óg go deo deo ní ghabhfaidh mé aríst
Mar is leob a chaith mé mo bhróga, i dtús m'óige 's i ndeireadh mo shaoil
Is iad a sheol mé as Bun an Bhóthair, is a chuir an tóir orm amach go Trá Lí.
VI
Chúns a bheas mé beo in Éirinn, ní thréigfidh mé comhluadar óil
Chúns a bheas mé beo in Éirinn, nach bpléascfaidh mé an jug ar an mbord
Ag ól do shláinte-sa, a mhíle stóirín, 'sé an truaigh nach liom do dhá bhó.
VII
Mar gur iomaí sin bóithrín caol uaigneach atá gabháil idir mise 'gus í
Is ann a gheobhfaí an spóirt, tráthnóna 's go mall tíocht na hoích'
Gheofaí gloine ar an mbórd, 's comhluadar geanúil ina suí.
Translation:
I
Weak is my mother and alone at the boat harbour
She sighs and laments every Sunday night until morn
Her husband is buried in Kilbride, a gravestone at his head
While her son is chief entertainer, countrywide, with a jug in his hand.
II
I cannot lift these bags with the pain in my back
I’m far from my friends, and I've nowhere to take a rest
But with the help of God, I won’t be a vagrant much longer.
III
But there is a young woman amongst them, and I’ll not mention her name
Till Loch Erne shifts or the swan loses its white down
Until death I will not reveal why I loved you.
IV
When I go to the tavern, there is no jewel there nicer than she
Her complexion is like the rose, she exudes honey
It’s my view that he who'd taste her kiss would live long.
V
I give my oath and swear by the big book that I peruse
I will avoid the company of young women forever more
With them I wore out my shoes in my early youth and final days
They caused me banishment from Bun an Bhóthair and pursuit to Tralee.
VI
As long as I live in Ireland, I’ll not not forsake social drinking
As long as I live in Ireland, I’ll crack the jug on the table
Here’s to your health, my darling, a pity I don't own your two cows.
VII
Many a narrow and lonely boreen between you and I
It's there we had sport, in the evening and late into the night
Good affectionate company, seated with a glass on the table.
Track 10: Bríd Thomáis Mhurcha
Seo leagan Choilm Uí Chaoidheáin d’amhrán grá atá an-choitianta i gConamara. Bheifí ag súil le héagsúlacht sna foclaí aige, arnó, ach tugaim suntas áirthid don bhfonn a chasadh sé. B’as Glínnsce do Cholm agus thug sé os cionn 200 amhrán dho Shéamus Ennis le linn na mblianta a raibh sé a’ bailiú ceoil sa gceantar. Bhí stór mór port agus seanchas aige freisin. Chuir mé an-suim sa leagan seo ó chuala mé é i dtosach thart ar ocht mbliana ó shoin. Is é m’athair a d’inis dom faoin mbuntaifead. Bhí Colm Ó Caoidheán thar a bheith eisceachtúil mar fhonnadóir ar go leor bealaí, agus dhá dtosóinn a’ trácht orthab, chaithfinn leabhar a scríobh!
This song is Colm Ó Caoidheáin’s version of a song that is often sung in Connemara. There are variations in the lyrics, naturally, but I was particularly struck by the song air he sang. Colm was from Glynsk, a few miles west of Carna, and he contributed over 200 songs to Séamus Ennis’ collection of music from the area. Colm also had a large and rich store of tunes and old stories. It was my father who first brought to my attention Colm’s original recording of this song about 8 years ago and I was drawn to it immediately. Colm was a highly exceptional singer in many ways, and if I began to describe them, I would have to write a book!
I
Le do mhúinteacht, 's le do dheiseacht, 's go deimhin le do dhea, dea-mhéin
Má shíl tú mé a mhealladh le glórtha bog binn do bhéil
Faoi dhó tá mo ghean ort thar a bhfaca mé de mhná óga an tsaoil.
II
Chuir sé loing ar a' bhfarraige le haghaidh 'bheith 'déanamh spóirt
Ach a' filleadh ó Shligeach dhúinn 's siolla ar bith 'fháil den chóir
Dhiún a gcónód faoi bhealach nó go mblaisfead de phóg mo stór.
III
Le go bhfásann úlla cumhra air a baintear faoi dhó sa mbliain
Tá na ródánaí meala ag na mbeachain go hard faoin sliabh
'S go bhfuil siúcra donn craite ar a mblaiseann mo ghrá den bhia.
IV
'S ná an chéad scoth den chruithneacht a bheadh fuinte as sú na mil bheach
A cúilín deas triopallach fite 'na thrilseáin óir
An té a bheadh gan amharc, go ndéanfadh sé soilse dhó.
V
É sin nó an spideog 'bhíonns a' seinnúint ar bharr na gcrann
Ní liachtaí ó! titim 'ghníonns a' t-uisce ná intinn mná
'S nach fear gan aon mhisneach nach rithfeadh naoi n-uaire an cás.
Translation:
I
Oh Bríd Thomáis Mhurcha, I praise you above all young women
Your politeness, your niceness and indeed your most kind disposition
If you thought to entice me with the soft, sweet words of your mouth
My affection for you is greater than all the young women I’ve seen.
II
My daddy went to England, and bought an apple garden
He launched a ship to sea for the want of some sport
On our return from Sligo, to get any breeze of favourable wind,
I would not rest on the way, until I tasted the kiss of my dear.
III
Bideog owns a smooth, sweet garden across the bay
Where a fragrant apple grows, which is harvested twice a year
There are honey paths for the bees high on the mountain
All the food my love tastes is sprinkled with brown sugar.
IV
Is Bideog’s kiss not sweeter than all the water in Loch Erne
Or the finest of wheat, kneaded with the juice of honeybees?
Her nice wavy hair, plaited in golden braids
would bring vision to one who had lost his sight.
V
Is there any sight finer than a swan on the crest of a wave?
Or that of a robin singing on the tree tops?
Water does not fall faster than a woman’s mind
But it’s a gutless man who would not address the issue, nine times.
Track 13: Bean a' Leanna
Seo amhrán atá réasúnta coitianta i measc fhonnadóirí Iorras Aithnigh agus fonnadóirí Chonamara i gcoitinne. Chuala mé go minic é agus mé ag fás aníos. Is dóichí gurb é leagan Choilm Uí Chaoidheáin is mó a raibh tionchar aige ar an leagan atá a’m héin. Tá taifead dhe i gCnuasach Béaloideasa Éireann. Ní chasaim an pianó le hamhráin go rómhinic ach déanaim anois is aríst é le corr amhrán.
This song features quite strongly in the repertoire of Iorras Aithneach singers and Conamara singers in general. I heard it frequently over the years but the version I sing is probably influenced the most by Colm Ó Caoidheáin. A recording of his version is housed in the National Folklore Collection. I don’t often play the piano to accompany songs but I try it now and again with one or two of them.
I
Agus éirigh i do shuí, a bhean an leanna, ná fan le do chaipín a ghléas
Nó go bhfágha tú dhom deoch uisce beatha nó cárt de do chuid leanna féin
Mar beidh muid ag ól go maidin, seo sláinte na bhfear uilig go léir
'S nuair a fhágfas an mháistreás an baile beidh an cailín is deise agam héin.
II
'S a Dhia, céard a dhéanfas mé amárach, nuair a fheicfeas mé mo ghrá ag gabháil aniar?
Ní fhéadfaidh mé 'theacht ina láthair leis an méid is a bhí eadrainn ariamh.
Nuair a smaoiním ar a súgradh ’gus ar a gáire, is ar inneach a dá láimhín fial
Óra titim i lionn dubh 's i ndólás agus goileann mé mórán ina diaidh.
III
Agus shiúil mise bogachaí agus sléibhtí, agus cnoic a bhí géar ina mbarr
Is a lán bealaí eile nach ndéarfainn, gan únsa ar bith céille i mo cheann
Ar thuairisc mo bhuachaillín spéiriúil nach sínfead mo thaobh leis go brách
'S nár chóra dhó codladh taobh thuas dhíom ná bheith i gCorcaigh dhá uairín roimh lá.
IV
Is fada mo chosa gan bróga, ach is faide mo phócaí gan píghinn,
Is fada mé ag ól le fir óga ach níor ól mé aon deoir ariamh le mo mhian.
Is fada m’uaigh dhá déanamh, is mo thuamba dhá bhreacadh ag na saoir
Mo chróchar dá gearradh lá an earraigh, is na buachaillí óga 'gabháil faoi.
V
Agus bhí mise lá 'gus mé súgach, is mé ag triall ar tigh Mhicil sa ngleann
Bhí stríoncán de phíobaire chaoch ann agus jug fuisce líonta aige ar clár.
Ó thiteamar lag marbh síos ann, gan preab inár gcois ná inár láimh
Ach seo beannacht shíol Ádhamha 'gus Éabh dhaoibh, agus íocfaidh mé héin an reicneáil.
Translation:
I
Rise up ale woman, don't wait to don your cap
Until you get me a drink of whiskey, or a quart of your own beer
For we will drink until morning, here's a health to all the men
And when the mistress leaves the house, I will have the nicest girl for myself.
II
Lord, what will I do tomorrow, when I see my love coming from the west
I cannot be in her presence with all that was ever between us
When I think of her playfulness and laughter, the handiwork of her two generous little hands,
I fall into melancholy and despair, and I sorely weep over her.
III
I walked boggy lands and mountains, and hills that were sharp at their summits
And many other ways that I wouldn't mention, I didn’t have an ounce of sense
Inquiring for my handsome young man, by whose side I will never lie
Should he not be sleeping beside me, instead of being in Cork two hours before dawn.
IV
Long time my feet without shoes, longer still my pockets without a penny
I have been a long time drinking with young men, but I never drank a drop with my love
My grave is being made a long time, my tomb being engraved by masons
My stretcher being cut on a spring day, and the young men carrying it.
V
One day when I was tipsy, on my way to Tigh Mhicil in the glen
There was a strain of music from a blind piper there, a jugful of whiskey on the table
We fell into a stupour, without motion in either foot or hand
A blessing of the seed of Adam and Eve to you all, and I myself will pay the reckoning.
Track 15: Róisín Dubh
Seo amhrán a dtug mé suntas dhó i gcónaí, ó thaobh foinn dhe i dtosach, agus ansin ó thaobh na bhfocal dhe. Tá go leor mínithe is féidir a thabhairt air ach ceapaim go mbeidh rúndiamhaireacht ar leith ag baint leis i gcónaí. Is iad na leaganachaí ag Sorcha Ní Ghuairim, Seán Jeaic Mac Donnchadha, Dara Bán Mac Donnchadha agus Seán ‘ac Dhonncha is mó a chuaigh i bhfeidhm orm.
I was always taken with this song, firstly with the melody, and then with the words. There are many ways it can be interpreted but I think it will always retain a certain mystery. The versions which have most influenced me are those sung by Sorcha Ní Ghuairim, Seán Jeaic Mac Donnchadha, Dara Bán Mac Donnchadha and Seán ‘ac Dhonncha.
I
'S a Róisín, ná bíodh brón ort fánar éirigh dhuit,
Tá do phardún againn ón bPápa, is ón Róimh anoir,
Tá do dheartháirín sa nGearmáin is a thriall thar muir,
Ó, is ná spáráil fíon Spáinneach ar mo Róisín Dubh.
II
Is dá bhfeicfeá mo Róisín ar thaobh an tsruth’
Agus ribín caol uaine faona lár mar chrios,
Cúilín gruaige uirthi a scuabfadh na gleannta fraoigh,
Ó, 'sé an truaigh nár luadh go hóg liom í.
III
Dá mbeadh seisreach agam nach deas a threabhfainn in aghaidh an chnoic
Dhéanfainn seanmóir ar an altóir mar a hordaíodh dhom
Thabharfainn póg mhaiseach don chailín, is nár dhual dúinn sin
Óra, dhéanfainn cleas deas ar chúl an leasa le mo Róisín Dubh.
IV
Is mhearaigh tú mé, a bhideog, 's nár ba fearrde dhuit
'S go bhfuil m'anam istigh i ngean ort, 's ní inné é ná inniu
Ó d'fhága tú mé lag, anbhfann, i gcré is i gcruth
Ó, 's tá m'anam gléigeal ligithe go léig agam le mo Róisín Dubh.
V
Nach fada an réim a lig mé léi ó inné go inniu,
Siúl sléibhte ’mo chadhan aonraic, ní raibh aon neach liom,
Loch Éirne, chaith mé de léim í, cé go mb'ard a bhí a sruth,
Ó, is mar ghile gréine ar gach taobh dhíom a bhí mo Róisín Dubh.
Translation:
I
Dear Róisín, don't be sad about your predicament
Your pardon is on its way from the Pope, from Rome in the east
Your little brother is in Germany, with his expedition over the sea
Don't spare Spanish wine on my dark Róisín.
II
If you saw my Róisín by the stream’s edge
A slender green ribbon as a belt around her waist
Her head of hair would sweep the heathery glens
It’s a pity that I wasn't betrothed to her in my youth.
III
If I had a plough I’d skillfully plough uphill
I’d give a sermon on the altar, as I was ordained to do
I would give a beautiful kiss to the girl, as is our nature
And I’d play a nice game behind the fairy fort with my dark Róisín.
IV
You have bewildered me, young woman, may you not be the better for it
It is not today nor yesterday that you stole my heart
You have left me weak and feeble, in both shape and form
And I have neglected my bright soul over my dark Róisín.
V
I let her go a long distance between yesterday and today
Walking mountains as a lone bird, there was no other being with me
I cleared Loch Erne with a single jump, although the tide was high
And my dark Róisín was like a ray of sunshine each side of me.