42 Chuirinn suas ri do chluais 42

 

Chuirinn suas ri do chluais
Ite chuachach an eòin,
 
Séist
Mo nigh'nn donn, hó gù,
Hì rì rì hù leó,
Mo nigh'n donn hó gù.

 
Bhithinn sona le mo ghràdh
Ann an sabhal bàn an fheòir,
 
Bhithinn sona le mo ghaol,
Ann an sabhal min an fheòir,
 
Théid mo làmh 'na do làimh,
'S neo r thàinig dha'n tha beò;
 
Togail a' mhilitia suas
Bheir sud bhuainn gillean òg',
 
Cha bhi sinn air falbh ach mìos
'S cha bhi'n cianalas oirnn,
 
Ri dol sìos mu'n taobh siar
Laigh an cianalas oirnn,
 
Ri dol sìos mu'n A' Chirc
Chuir i spriotagan oirnn,
 
Ri dol sìos mu'n A'Charbh
Bratach dhearg as an t-seòl
 
Boinead gorm, còta dearg,
Deise 'n airm rinn mo leòn.
I would put up with your ears,
Feather cap of the birds
 

My dark girl, ho gu
Hi ri ri hu leo
My dark girl, ho gu
 
I would be happy with my love
In the white barn of the hay
 
I would be happy with my love
In the granary of the hay
 
My hand will go in your hands
And nothing came to the life
 
Raise the militia up
Take yonder from us, young boys.
 
We will not be after leaving but a month,
And I will not be melancholy about us.
 
Going down to the west side
Lying melancholy about us.
 
Going down to the Kirk
She put spray on us
 
Going down to Cape Wrath
Red sails from the ship
 
Blue bonnet, red coat
Ready of the weapon will make my wound.  

The boys, having been called up to the militia, do their best to cheer their sweethearts in their absence, while the girls, expressing grief at the thought of military uniform, long for their return.
 
 
 
  Bho'n leabhar Eilean Fraoch - Pg68
Séist
Mo nigh'n donn hó gù
Hì ri rì hù ló
Mo nigh'n donn hó gù.

 
Mo nigh'n donn a' chùil bhàin
'S e do ghràdh rinn mo leòn.
 
Mo nigh'n donn a' chùil chais
Deud mar chailc 's gruaidh mar ròs.
 
Mo nigh'n donn a' chùil réidh
Bha mi'n déidh air do thòir.
 
Mo nigh'n donn a choisinn geall
Far na champaich na seòid.
 
 
'S bithidh mo làmh-sa 'nad làimh
'S neo-ar-thaing do n' tha beò.
 
'S bithidh mo làmh mu d' chùl bàn
Ged a gheàrrt i mu'n dòrn.
 
'S bheirinn oidhch' air son oidhch'
Air son caoimhneas do bheòil.
 
'S théid mi null air a' bheinn
Far 'm beil loinn nan bàn òg.
 
'S bithidh mi còmhl' ri bean na bainns'
'S bithidh mi'n ceann a' bhùird mhóir.
 
 
 
 
42B Mo Nighean Donn Hó Gù 42B

 
 
Chuirinn suas ri do chluais
Ite chuachach an eòin.
 
Séist
Mo nighean donn hó gù.
Hi ri rì hu ill ó.
Mo nigh'nn donn hó gù.

 
Bhithinn sona le mo ghràdh
Ann an sabhal bàn an fheòir.
 
Bhithinn sona le do ghaol
Ann an sabhal mìn an fheòir;
 
Théid mo làmh na do laimh
Neo-ar-thainig dha 'n tha beò.
 
Togail a' mhailisi suas,
Thug sud bhuainn gillean òg' -
 
Cha bhi sinn air falbh ach mìos
Cha bhi 'n cianalas òirnn,
 
Ri dol sios mun taobh siar
Laigh an cianalas òirnn
 
Ri dol sios mun a' Chirc
Chuir i spriotagan òirnn;
 
Ri dol sios mun a' Charbh.
Bratach dhearg as an t-seòl.
 
Bonaid ghorm, còta dearg
Deise 'n Airm rinn mo leòn
 
I would place against your ear, the curled feather of the eagle, I would be happy with my love in the white hay barn. I would be happy with my love in the soft hay barn. My hand will go in your hand, despite any living person. Forming the militia took yung lads away from us. We will only be gone a month and we will not be homesick. Going down the west coast, we did feel homesick. Going down by Chicken Head, we felt the spray. Going down by Cape Wrath, a red banner in the sail. A blue bonnet and a red coat, the army uniform that wearied me.

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Courtesy of An Cliath Clis
www.ancliathclis.ca