Gaelic Songs Orain Ghaidhealach
Gaelic Songs, Orain Ghaidhealach by William Ross was originally published in 1937 and is a wonderful collection of old Gaelic “songs” or poems with English translation.
Here for your enjoyment:
“CONVERSATION BETWEEN THE BARD AND BLAVEN
The Bard composed the following song while gazing over the top of a hill in Gairloch, at Blaven, the summit of Strath MacKinnon in the Isle of Skye, the native land of his ancestors. He entreats the Ben to ” sing the story of the age that is gone.” The Ben answers him, as it were, and declares that a sad change has come upon itself since the Bard’s ancestors ceased to frequent it. I sit on a lonely height, Gazing, musing, the lay saith ” The world’s guile, life’s poor respite, All flesh — are a prey to death.” O ! all I see I dearly prize, ” Queen of the bens, grim gloomily, Thy lofty peak I’d recognise Howe’er far I strayed from thee. ” O ancient Blaven, forest free, Where hunted my ancestry, With secret power answer me, Since I’ve never roamed on thee !
COMHRADH EADAR AM BARD AGUS BLATH-BHEINN ” ‘S labhair an t-ùr-sgeul o shean, Le bhi toirt fainear gach am, O na lathaichean a chuaidh 15 Dh’ ionnsaidh an tràth thruaigh so th’ann.” Dhiuchd an comas sin ‘nam dhàil Geart mar b’àill learn no ni’s mò ; Ged nach tuig am mal-shluagh dur, ‘S nach rannsaich iad iùil air choir. 20 Ach chualas fathunn grathuinn uam, Tabhann duanaich le guth fann — ” Bu truagh learn do ghlaodh bhi teirbeirt, Mar chaora thearbaidh air chall. ” B’ eòl domh t’ aitim ‘s b’ ait am beus, 25 Bhi siubhal slèibhe gun sgios, Ach rè seal bha mise ‘g iondrain Torghain do bhuidhne ‘nam fhrith. ” Chaill na h-ionadan am blàth, A’s thriall gach àrmunn àigh g’a uaigh ; 30 Thrèig a’ chruit a h-inneal dàna, ‘S leig a’ chlàrsach bàs a fuaim ! ” ‘S tha mac-talla balbh gun chainnt, Cha chluinn e caithream, no ceòl — Mo dhòigh gu’n deach mac-nan-creag, 35 O bhi freagairt mar bu choir ” Tha mise mar bha mi riamh, O na shoillsich grian air là, O na dhealraich gealach oidhch’, Chuireadh mo ghaibhlean-s’ an sàs.
CONVERSATION BETWEEN THE BARD AND BLAVEN
“And tell the romantic tale of old, Demonstrating every age From the days that by have rolled To this sad hour’s present stage.” That power swam into my ken Just as I wished or with more force, Though dullards dense don’t understand Or properly search out its source. But not far off I heard a sigh, A bay of woe, with weak voice say, ” I’d mourn thee broadcasting thy cry, Like a sheep wandered, cast away. ” I knew thy race, glad was their way The hill to traverse with no rest, But I’ve been missing for a day Thy folk’s murmur in my forest. ” The places all have lost their bloom, The crowd its note of melody, And each bold wight gone to his tomb, The harp has let its music die. ” And halting echo, speechless grown, Hears no war-cry or blithe strain, Ah ! that the Son of the Rocks has gone, Nor answers, as he ought, again. ” I am as I have ever been Since the sun lit up the day, Ere since by night did the moon gleam, Have my foundations held their stay.
COMHRADH EADAR AM BARD AGUS BLATH-BHEINN
“Mus tàinig an dìl’ o nèamh Bha mo fhreamhan-s’ air an cur ; ‘S cha dean a h-uile neart an gluasad, Bithidh mi gu buan air am muin. ” Ach tha mi gun triath talmhaidh còir, 45 Mo choir’ air sìol Leòid, leòir an cron, 1 Ach na’m faodainn-sa dhol thairis, Dhioladh Dim-can air a shon.”