80 Òran Seòladh Cheap Breatuinn 80
Cape Breton Sailing Song
See also page 18
Source: Maxie MacNeil, Iona
 
 

Séist
Fa ri il éile o ro
O ro i ri il o ro
I ri il éile o ro
Ochoin, 'n uair a dh'fhalbh sinn.  

 
An oidhche sin a ghluais sinn
Gu robh mu'n ghealach buaile
Bha pàirt dhi gorm us uaine
'S i 'togail gruaim gu soirbheas.
 
Baddeck a rinn sinn 'clearance'
Air madainn moch di-ciadaoin
Bha brìtheas ann on iar-dheas
'A tarraing gruaim gu soirbheas.
 
Mach aig beul Bhra d'Òr
Bha uisge mór us ceò air
Bha crodh againn air bòrd
Mi-dhòigheal 'ad air fairge.
 
'Dol seachad Rubh' an t-Sàlmon
A rìgh gu robh i gàbhaidh
'S i togail an t-sàile
An àirde on ghainmhich.
 
'S e dh'fhàg mo lamhan grannda
'Nan gàgan mar a tha 'ad
Cho tric 's a bhios a'n t-sàile
Ri ròpa làidir cainbeach.
 
Eachann 's e 'taomadh
Alasdair bidh aotrom
A' giùlain móran aodaich
Air aodann na fairge.
 
'Dol seachad Point Aconi,
Bha double reefs 's foresail
Bha mainsail air a' lowaradh
'S an jib cha mhór nach d'fhalbh i.
 
Siod far a' robh 'n iubhrach
'N uair a chuir sinn rithe h-aodach
Gun sheòladh i mar fhaoileig
An aodann na fairge.
 
Mis' a bha stiùireadh,
'S an caiptean 'gabhail ùrnaigh
'Daididh air a chùlaibh
'S e 'cunntais a chuid airgead.
Chorus
Vocables
Vocables
Vocables

Alas, when we departed.

 
That night we made a move
It was dark around the moon
A part of her was blue and green
It was grey, showing signs of strong wind.
 
We made Baddeck clearance
Early on Wednesday morning
A breeze was there from southwest
Pulling miserably to the wind.
 
Out at the mouth of Bras d'Or
Raining heavy and fog on it.
We had cattle on board
Disorderly they were on the ocean.
 
Going past Salmon Point
Lord, she was windy
It was lifting up the sea
High above the sand
 
And it left my ugly hands
Scarred like they are
So often would be in the salt water
With strong rope of hemp.
 
Hector he is bailing
Alexander will keep it light
Carrying many sails
On the surface of the sea.
 
Going past Point Aconi
The foresail was double reefed
The mainsail was lowered
And we damn near lost the jib
 
She was like a bird
When we put the sails to her
In order to sail her like a seagull
On the surface of the sea.
 
I was steering
And the captain saying a prayer
Daddy behind him
He is counting his share of silver.



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Courtesy of An Cliath Clis
www.ancliathclis.ca