The Blood Is Strong

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  1. Aignish – Aignish
  2. Cumha Do Dh’uilleam Siosal – Chisholm Lament
  3. O Mo Dhuthaich – Oh My Country
  4. Fear A’ Bhata – Oh My Boatman
  5. Alasdair Mhic Colla – Alasdair Mhic Colla
  6. Dean Cadalan Samhach – Beloved
  7. An Ataireachd Ard – The High Swelling Of The Sea
  8. ‘S Fhada Leam An Oidhche – I Feel The Winter Night Long
  9. Maighdeanan Na H-Airidh – Shieling Maids

 

Aignish

An ciaradh m’fheasgair ‘s mo bheath’ air claoidh
Mo rosg air dunadh ‘s a’ bhas gun chli.
Stiuir curs’ an lar leam gu Eilean ciatach
Gu Aignish sgiamhach far an d’araich mi.

An sin gun cairich sibh mi ‘san fhod
A measg mo chairdean ‘smo shinnsrean coir,
Ri tonnan barr-gheal a’ bualadh traghad
‘Sri machair Aignish nan laoigh ‘s nam bo.

Aignish

When day is over and life is done
Mine eyes have closed and my strength has gone
O westwards take me and quietly lay me
In Aignish graveyard beside the sea.

There please leave me by kith and kin
By parents kindly and all my friends,
By white waves pounding on beaches sounding
By Aignish graveyard beside the sea.

Och! a Thearlaich og Stiubhart

‘se do chuis rinn mo leireadh
Thug thu uam gach ni bh’agam

Ann an cogadh a’d aobhar

Cha chrodh is cha chairdean

Rinn mo chradh ach mo cheile

O’n la dh’fhag thu m’i’m aonar

Gun sion ‘sant-saoghal ach leine
Mo run geal og.

Gur a mis’ thair mo sqaradh
‘Sqed a chan-am cha bhreug e
‘Sioma te bha na bantraich
Nach d’fhuair samhladh do’m cheile
Fear do cheille’s do thuig-se
cha robh fur-asd r’a fhaotuinn

‘Scha do sheas air Cul-lo-dair

Fear do choltais bu treine

Mo run gael og.

Chisholm Lament

O young Charles Stewart,
Your cause is the reason of my sorrow
You took from me everything I had,
In the war on your behalf
I am not mourning cattle and sheep,
But my partner
Since I am left alone
With nothing but my shroud!

I am torn apart,
And although I say it,
It is no lie
My joy turned to sorrow,
Since you will not return from death
One of your wisdom and understanding,
Was not easy to find
And not one stood at Culloden,
Of your appearance and bravery.

O Mo Dhuthaich

O mo dhuthaich ‘stu thair m’aire
Uibhist chumhraidh ur nan gallan

Far a faighte na daoin uaisle
Far’m bu dual do Mhac ‘ic Ailein.

Tir a mhurain, tir an eorna
Tir ‘s am pailt a huile seorsa
Far am bi na gillean oga
Gabhaill oran ‘s g’ol an lionna.

Thig lad ugainn, carach, seolta
Gus ar mealladh far ar n-eolais
Molaidh iad dhuinn Manitoba
Duthaich fhuar gun ghual, gun mhoine.

Oh My Country

O, my country you are on my mind
Fresh, fragrant Uist of the saplings
Where the noble men are found
Who gave their hereditary allegiance to Mhac ‘ic Ailein.

Land of seabed, land of barley
Land of abundance of every kind
Where the young lads will be
Singing songs and drinking beer.
They will come to us cunning and wily
In order to entice us from our homes
They will praise Manitoba to us
A cold country with no coal and no peat!

Fear A’ Bhata

Fhir a’bhata, na ho ro eile
Fhir a’bhata, na ho ro eile
Fhir a’bhata, na ho ro eile
Mo shoraidh slan leat ‘sgach ait teid thu!

‘S tric mi sealltuinn o’n chnoc a’s dirde
Dh’fheuch am faic mi fear a’ bhata
An tig thu’n diugh no’n tig thu maireach
‘S mur tig thu idir, gur truagh a ta mi.

Fhir a’bhata, na ho ro eile
Fhir a’bhata, na ho ro eile
Fhir a’bhata, na ho ro eile
Mo shoraidh slan leat ‘sgach ait teid thu!

Oh My Boatman

O my boatman, na ho ro eile
O my boatman, na ho ro eile
O my boatman, na ho ro eile
May joy await thee where ‘er thou sailest!

I climb the mountain and scan the ocean
For thee, my boatman, with fond devotion
When shall I see thee? today? tomorrow?
Oh! do not leave me in lonely sorrow.

O my boatman, na ho ro eile
O my boatman, na ho ro eile
O my boatman, na ho ro eile
May joy await thee where ‘er thou sailest!

Alasdair Mhic Colla

Alasdair Mhic oho
Cholla ghasda oho
As do laimh-s’ gun o ho

Earbainn tapaidh trom eile

Chall eile bho chall a ho ro
Chall eile bho chall a ho ro
Chall eile huraibh i chall a ho ro
‘S haoi o ho trom eile

As do laimh-s’ gun o ho
Earbainn tapaidh o ho
Mharbhadh Tighearna o ho
Ach-nam-Breac leat trom eile

‘S ged ‘s beag mi fhein o ho
Bhuail mi ploc air o ho
Chuala mi’n de o ho
Sgeul nach b’ait leam trom eile

Chuala mi’n de o ho
Sgeul nach b’ait leam o ho
Glaschu a bhith o ho
Dol ‘na lasair trom eile

Glaschu a bhith o ho
Dol ‘na lasair o ho
‘S Obair-Dheathain o ho
‘N deidh a chreachadh trom eile

Alasdair Mhic Colla

Alasdair, son of exile Cholla
In your hand I would entrust deeds
The Lord of Ach-nam-breac would be
killed by you
He would be buried at the edge of the loch
And although I would get a bow,
I heard yesterday a sad story
That Glasgow was going down
And Aberdeen is being pillaged.

Dean Cadalan Samhach, A Chuilean Mo Ruin

Gur ann an America tha sinn an drasd’,
Fo dhubhar na coille, nach teirig gu brath.
‘N uair dh’fhalbhas an dulachd ‘s a thionndaidh’s am blaths,
Bithidh cnothan, bidh ubhlan ‘s bithidh an siucar a fas.

Thoir mo shoraidh le failte Chinn t-Saile nam bo,
Far ‘n d’fhuair mi greis m’drach ‘s mi’m phaisde beag og.
Bhiodh fleasgaichean donn air bonnaibh ri ceol,
Agus nionogan dualach ‘s an gruaidh mar an ros.

Sleep Softly, My Darling Beloved

We are now in America,
In the shade of the never-ending forest.
When winter departs and warmth returns,
Nuts, apples, and sugar will grow.
Bear my farewell and greeting to Kintail and it’s cattle,
Where I spent my time of upbringing when I was a young child.
There dark-haired lads would dance heel and toe to the music,
And lassies with flowing tresses and cheeks like the rose.

An Ataireachd Ard

An ataireachd bhuan, cluinn fuam na h-ataireachd ard
Tha torann a chuain mar chualas leamsa ‘nam phaisd,
Gun mhuthadh gun truas, a’ sluaisreadh gainneamh na tragh’d
An ataireachd bhuan, cluinn fuaim na h-ataireachd ard.
Ach siubhlaidh mi uat, cha ghluais mi tuilleadh ‘nad dhail
Tha m’aois is mo shnuadh toirt luaidh air giorrad mo latha
‘San am dhomh bhith suaint’ am fuachd’s an cadal a’ bhais
Mo leabaidh dean suas ri fuaim na h-ataireachd aird.

The High Swelling Of The Sea

The everlasting swelling, hear the sound of the high swelling
The roar of the sea is as was heard by me as a child,
Without change, without pity, shovelling the sand of the shore.
The everlasting swelling, listen to the sound of the swelling.
But I’ll depart from you, I’ll not move any more to meet you
My age and my appearance give an account of the shortness of my day
At the time that I am wrapped in the cold slumberof death
My bed make up behind the sound of the sea.

‘S Fhada Leam An Oidhche Gheamhraidh

Faili, faili, faili o ro;
Faili, faili, faili o ro;
Faili, faili, faili o ro;
‘S cian nan cian bho dh’fhag mi Leodhas.

‘S fhada leam an oidhche gheamhraidh,
‘S fhada ‘s fhada ‘s fhada leam i,
‘S nach fhaic mi ach preiridh lom ann,
‘S cha chluinn tonn ri tigh’nn gu traigh ann.

‘N am do’n fheasgar a bhi ciaradh,
‘S tric a bhios mo spiorad cianail;
Smaoineachadh g’ el cian nan cian uam,
Far ‘m bu mhiann leam dhol a cheilidh.

I Feel The Winter Night Long

Faili, faili, faili o ro;
Faili, faili, faili o ro;
Faili, faili, faili o ro;
It is a time of long times since I left Lewis.

I feel the winter night long,
Long, long, long it is,
I can see nothing but a bare prairie there,
And I can’t hear a wave coming to the shore.

In the evening time when it’s getting dark,
Often the spirit will be full of longing;
Thinking that there is a long, long distance,
From where I would like to be ceilidhing.

Maighdeanan Na H-Airidh

Thug mi’n oidh-che raoir ‘s mi bruadar
Mari nion-ag-an na buaile
B’fhin-ealt uasal min na gruagaich
Seinn nan duanag anns an air-idh

Thug mi’n oidh-che raoir ‘an airidh
Thug mi’n oidh-che raoir ‘an airidh
Chaith mi’n oidhche cridheil caoimhneil
Mari maighdeanan na hairidh.

Shieling Maids

Last night I was dreaming
Mary, the shieling lass,
She of the beautiful hair,
Singing beautifully on the shieling.

Last night on the shieling
Last night on the shieling
I had a joyful, loving time
Mary the shieling lass.