| 56 | Hìll Éileadh Hò Gù | 56 |
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Séist Hìll éileadh hò gù, Dh'fhalbh mo rùn o chionn seachdain, Hìll éileadh hò gù. |
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Dh'fhalbh mo rùn o chionn bliadhna, Dh'fhalbh mo chiall o chionn seachdain. Dh'fhalbh mo rùn air a' bhàta, Gu ma slàn a thig e dhachaidh. 'S iomadh nighean a' ghil-bhroillich, Cìochan corrach, 's a' chùil chleachdaich. Leis 'm bu mhiann a bhith réidh riut Latha féille 's a chlachan. Tha mo cheist ort, a Dhòmhnaill, Bu tu an t-òganach dreachmhór. Gun tig deis ort dha 'n aodach Cho daor 's a thig a Sasunn. Thig na h-osain mu d' chasan, Brògan tana a bhuinn cairte. Agus gartanan rìomhach B'ait leum fhìn bhith 'gam pasgadh. Thig an triubhsair air fhiaradh Air do shliasaid ghil chailce 'S i do ghruaidh bu ghlan rudhadh Mar ubhal na slaite 'S do dheud bu ghlan snaidheadh, Mac samhailt na cailce. 'S gura muladach tha mi, 'S mi an Aros an aisig. 'S mi ru feitheamh fir Ile, Tha mi sgìth 's mi làn airteil. Mi ri feitheamh fir Muile, Cha b'e furan a chleachd mi. 'S ann a chleachd mi bhith sùgradh Ri òg ùr a Chlann Lachlainn. Òg ùr a' chùil dualaich, 'S nan gruaidhean dearg dathte. 'S ann tha càirdeas mo leannain As na h-Eileinean Tarsuinn. Clann Dòmhnaill, Clann Raghnaill, Clann Laghmainn, Clann Lachlainn. 'S mura deachaidh mi 'm mearachd, Gura car' thu dh'Iarl' Ailpein, Gura car' thu 'n Iarl' Ìle Bhuinnigheadh cìs anns na batail. Gura car' thu Mhac Dhòmhnaill Nan stròltan 's nam bratach. Gura car' thu Mhac Coinnich O na h-Eileinean Tarsuinn. Gura car' thu Chlann Dubhghaill Air thùs nam fear tapaidh Stadaidh mise dhe d'shloinneadh, Tha mi coma mar thachair, Tha do ghaol air mnaoi éile, 'S cuime cheilinn-sa m'fhacal? Bean dhona, cha n-fhiù i, Cuir g'a dùthaich i dhachaigh! |
My love left a year ago, My senses left me a week ago. My love left on the ship, May he come home safe. Many a fair-bosomed girl With pointed breasts and curly hair. Who like to be with you On a fair day in the village. My love is yours, Donald, You're a handsome young man. A suit well becomes you. Of the dearest cloth from England. With hose upon your feet, And thin shoes with tanned soles And pretty garters, I would like to fold them. And striped trews On your chalk-white thighs. Your cheek was bright red, Like the apple on the branch. Your teeth were clean-cut, And white as chalk. Sorrowful am I At Aros at the ferry. Awaiting the men of Islay, I am tired and dejected. Awaiting the Mull men, Not the welcome I was used to. I was used to love-making With a fair youth of Clan Lachlann, A fair youth with curling locks And cheeks of red colour. My lover's related In the far flung islands, To Clan Donald, Clanranald, Clan Lamont, Clan Lachlann. And unless I'm in error To the chief of Clan Alpine. |
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Courtesy of
An Cliath Clis
www.ancliathclis.ca