The Songs

• 1. Cad é sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó

  An gcluin tú mé a Chathaoir agus druid a mo chomhair
  Nó go dtúsóidh mé a theagasg duit ligint den ól;
  B’fhearr duit bean agat nó sealbhán bó
  Ná bheith ag cruinniú do leathphingin’ is do hata i do dhorn.

  Grá folaigh ní thug mé don aon mhnaoi ariamh
  Nó dá dtabharfainn ó mheallfainn a croí ina cliabh;
  Maoin eallaigh níor chuir mé ariamh ann spéis,
  Is mrá deasa go leanfadh ar aonach mé.

  Dá muirbhfinn an riabhach is dá n-íosfainn an fheoil
  Dá ndíolfainn a craiceann agus a luach uilig a ól,
  Dá gcaithfinn mó bhríste sa tinidh is é a dhó
  Cad é sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó.

  Tá céad fear in Éirinn nár ól ariamh deoir,
  Cruinniú na ndéirce is a mhála ar a thóin,
  Ag feitheamh ‘ach tráthnóna cé thiocfas an ród,
  Cad é sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó.

  Deir daoine go bhfuil mé gan rath is gan dóigh
  Gan earraigh ná éadach gan bólacht ná stór,
  Ach má tá mise sásta mo chónaí a ghnóthú
  Cad é sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó.

  Tá a fhios agam cailín deas cneasta lách cóir
  A bhfuil a cneas mar an eala is a plucaí mar rós,
  Bíodh sise agus mise ag éalú faoi shó
  Cad é sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó.

  Chuaigh mé chun aonaigh agus dhíol mé mo bhó
  Ar chúig phunta airgid is ar ghiné bhuí óir
  Má ólaim an t-airgead is má bhronnaim an t-ór
  Cad é sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó.

  ---

  Do you hear me Cahir, come over to me now
  til I start teaching you to give up the drink
  You would be better off with a wife or pasture for a cow
  Than to be collecting halfpennies with your hat in your hand.

  I never gave secret love to any woman ever
  If I were to do so, I’d seduce her heart in her breast
  I was never interested in the wealth of cattle
  As pretty women would follow me to the market.

  If I killed the brindled cow and ate the meat
  If I sold the hide and drank its value
  If I threw my trousers into the fire and burnt them
  What’s that to anyone it doesn’t concern.

  There’s a hundred men in Ireland that never drank a drop
  Gathering and begging with their bag on their arse
  Waiting every afternoon to see who’d come along the road
  What’s that to anyone it doesn’t concern.

  People say I’m feckless and of no use
  Without any worldly goods or clothes, without cattle or wealth
  But if I’m content to eke out my living
  What’s that to anyone it doesn’t concern.

  I know a pretty girl who is proper, kind and decent
  Whose complexion is like the swan and her cheeks like the rose
  Let she and I elope at our ease
  And what’s that to anyone it doesn’t concern.

  I went to the fair and I sold my cow
  For five pounds in money and a guinea in gold
  If I drank the money and gave away the gold
  What’s that to anyone it doesn’t concern.

  ---

  This is a combination of a couple of versions of this well-known and widely sung song. The basic words and melody are from Síle Mhicí Uí Ghallchóir, from Dobhar, in Gaoth Dobhair, Donegal as noted down by Séamus Ennis. It’s supplemented by a few verses from Máire Nic Chomhaill, Crolly, Donegal and a few verses we have known all our lives.

• 2. Once I Knew a Pretty Girl

  Once I knew a pretty girl,
  I loved her all my life
  I’d gladly give my heart and hand
  To make her my wife
  To make her my wife.

  She took me by the hand
  She led me to the door
  She put her arms around me
  Saying please don’t come no more
  Saying please don’t come no more.

  Well I’d not been gone but about six months
  When she did complain
  She wrote me a letter
  Saying please come back again
  Saying please come back again.

  Well, I wrote her back an answer
  Just for to let her know
  That no young man should venture
  Where once he could not go
  Where once he could not go.

  So come all you young lovers,
  A warning take by me
  And never place your affections
  On a green growing tree.

  For the leaves they will wither
  The flowers they will decay
  And the beauty of a fair maid
  Will soon fade away
  Will soon fade away.

  ---

  ---

  We heard this song back in the 1960s from a recording by Joan Baez and we’ve been singing it – on and off – since then.

• 3. Cailín deas cúiseach na mbó

  Ó bhí mise lá ag goil go Dubhrainn agus casadh domh dís cailín óg
  Chuir a(on) bhean acu píosa dá dúiche nach mbuailfinnse barr an crann seoil;
  Ó ba ródheas a coiscéim is a héideadh is í go haerach ag goil romhamsa sa ród
  Ós a rí nár dheas a bheith ag súgradh le cailín deas cúiseach na mbó.

  Ó shiúil mé thar croic agus gleanntáin is faoi chrainn a raibh cnó ar a mbarr
  Is mé ag iarraidh tuairisc mo chéadsearc ná is í a lagaigh an croí in mo lár;
  Ó ba aoibhinn is ba dheas an tráthnóna, bhí an smaolach ar chraobh ag gabhail cheoil
  Is i bpáirc bheag a bhí aici i gcoisíseal, bhí mo chailín is í ag bleághan na bó.

  Ó tá cailín i gcontae na Gaillimhe is tá cailín i gcontae Mhaigh Eo,
  Is tá cailín beag eile sa bhaile nach bhfaca sibh a leithéid go fóill;
  Ó nó thógfadh sí croí na bhfear marbh is ‘ach duine a chluinfeadh mo scéal
  Ós nár mhéanair a gheobhadh í le mealladh, mo chailín deas cúiseach na mbó.

  Ó bhí mise lá ag goil go Dubhrainn agus casadh domh dís cailín óg
  Chuir a(on) bhean acu píosa dá dúiche nach mbuailfinnse barr an crann seoil;
  Ó ba ródheas a coiscéim is a héideadh is í go haerach ag goil romhamsa sa ród
  Ós a rí nár dheas a bheith ag súgradh le cailín deas cúiseach na mbó.

  ---

  One day as I was going to Dubhrainn, I met a pair of young girls
  One of them bet me a piece of her property, I wouldn’t reach the top of the mast
  Oh her footsteps and her clothes were delightful as she went ahead of me gaily on the road
  Oh heavens, it would be good to be having fun with my comely pretty girl of the cows.

  Oh I walked over hills and valleys under trees that had nuts in their boughs
  And I was searching for trace of my true love for she had weakened my heart in my core
  Oh the afternoon was sweet and pleasant and the thrush was singing in the branches
  And in a little field she had nearby was my girl as she milked the cow.

  Oh there’s a girl in county Galway and there’s a girl in county Mayo
  And there’s another little girl at home and you’ve never yet seen the likes of her
  For she would raise the hearts of men who are dead and everyone who would hear my story
  Oh wouldn’t it be fortunate for the man who would get to woo her, my comely pretty girl of the cows.

  ---

  Our aunt Neilí sang this version of a song normally heard in the south of Ireland where it’s called Cailín deas crúite na mbó / The pretty girl milking the cows. That song has the same lovely melody but the words are quite different. In Munster, singing the song was supposed to bring bad luck.

• 4. Kouskit

  Kouskit buhan, ma bugelig
  Ha me a gano deoc’h
  Pa demo d’ar gê ho mammig
  E rolo bronnig deoc’h

  Ho mamm a zo danserez
  Ho tad a zo mezvier
  Ha me ar vatez vihan
  A zo chomet er gêr.

  ---

  Go asleep quickly my little child
  And I will sing to you
  When your grandmother comes home
  She will give you the teat.

  Your mother is a dancer
  Your father is a drinker
  And I am the little servant girl
  Who stayed at home.

  ---

  Tríona heard this lullaby for the first time over fifty years ago on her first stay in Brittany on a recording of an anonymous woman from the Pays Vanntais. Jean Pol Huellou tracked down the words for Tríona.

• 5. Cumha an Fhile (The Poet’s Loneliness)

  Is cumhúil thíos fá bhruach na mara, is gruama an saol is mé liom fhéin,
  Gan sólás croí gan comhrá carad a thógfadh an cian domh is a mhúchfadh an léan;
  Go domhain san oíche is mór mo mhearadh – ag dúil go gcluinfinn ceol na n-éan
  Ach mo bhrón níl ann ach tuaim an bharra agus uaigneas síoraí fá ghlinnte an aeir.

  Níl ceiliúr cuach níl blátha geala ‘ theacht ag tsamhraidh ann mar a bhíodh,
  D’imigh an smaolach, d’imigh an eala is tháinig smoladh ar gach craobh;
  Tá mo chairde gaoil go síor’ na gcodladh insa tseanbhaile faraor,
  Is mise fágtha fuar fann folamh mar each gan srian ag treabhadh an tsaoil.

  Ní fheicim bádaí ag goil an barra, ní fheicim daoine amuigh ag snámh,
  Ní fheicim slóite Domhnach earraigh, thíos fán Bháinsigh mar ba ghnách;
  D’imigh an sport as Tóin an Bhaile, d’éag an seandream a bhí sámh
  Mo chumha ina ndiaidh, nach mór an chaill é iad a bheith scartha uainn mar atá.

  Grá mo chroí na laetha fada ‘ chaith mé thíos fá bhruach na trá
  Seal ag imirt le mo mhadadh, seal ag súgradh le mo ghrá:
  Seal gan ghruaim fá bhruach an easa féachaint bradán ar an tsnámh
  Is a Rí na nDúl nach trua nach mairfeadh saol na suáilce dúinn go brách.

  ---

  It’s lonesome down by the edge of the sea, life is gloomy as I’m on my own,
  With no solace for the heart, without chat with friends that would lift the sadness and banish the sorrow;
  Late at night I am greatly confused – hoping to hear the song of the birds
  But alas it’s only the noise of the tidal bar and eternal grief in the firmament of space.

  There’s no song of the cuckoo, nor no  bright flowers as there used to be when the summer comes
  The thrush has left, the swan has left and every branch has withered;
  My friends and relations are forever asleep in the old homeplace alas
  And I’m left cold , feeble and empty like a horse without reins ploughing through life.

  I no longer see boats going over the bar, nor do I see people out swimming
  Nor crowds on spring Sundays down around the Báinseach as there used to be;
  The fun has gone from Tóin an Bhaile, the older generation who were so easy going have passed on
  I’m pining for them, isn’t it a great loss,  they have departed from us as they have.

  How I loved with all my heart the long days I spent down by the shore
  A while fooling around with my dog and a while frolicking with my love
  A while spent without gloom at the side of the waterfall watching salmon as they swam
  Oh king of the elements it’s a pity such a life of joy could not last forever for us.

  ---

  A song made by Seán Bán MacGrianna (1905-1979) from Ranafast. He was a member of a gifted family of writers and poets and his songs are still in great demand locally. We sang this song with our late brother, Mícheál, and Dáithí Sproule in the group Skara Brae. This is our first time recording it. It’s unashamedly sentimental and seems to mean even more with the passing of time.

• 6. It’s Not In the Morning

  It is not in the morning I will sing my song
  But late in the evening when I think long
  When my eyes grows dim and my heart beats light
  When I think of old Ireland I left behind.

  Oh I was forced for to leave my home
  And to a foreign land to roam
  Then the landlord’s knock came unto to our door
  Which leaves me far, far from the shamrock shore.

  I had a girl and she was dear to me
  And her last words were I’ll be true to thee
  When you are gone I never shall cease to mourn
  I’ll wait for you love ‘til you return.

  But I was not long in a foreign land
  When my girl got wed to another man
  Those cruel news it broke my heart in two
  For I would die for that colleen bawn.

  So do you wonder now when I think long
  When I sit in the evening and sing my song
  When my heart grows weary with a troubled mind
  When I think on the loved ones I left behind.

  ---

  ---

  One of our aunt Neilí’s repertory of songs in English. This kind of song of emigration is part of the  bedrock of traditional singing in Ireland. Tríona makes it her own.

• 7. No Come Again

  The first place that I saw my love, it was at a ball;
  I looked at her, I gazed at her, far above them all.
  But aye she looked on me with scorn and disdain
  And the bonnie wee lassie’s answer was to no come again…

  The next place that I saw my love it was at a wake.
  I looked at her I gazed at her, I thought my heart would break;
  But aye she looked on me with scorn and disdain,
  And the bonnie wee lassie’s answer was to no come again…

  It being six months after, a little or above
  When Cupid shot his arrow and he’s wounded my true love,
  He’s wounded her severely which caused her to complain
  And she wrote to me a letter saying you might come again…

  Well I wrote her back an answer for to let her know,
  While life was in my body, it’s there I would nae go
  While life was in my body and while it does remain
  I will aye mind the girl who said don’t come again….

  So come all you pretty fair maids a warning take by me
  Never slight a young man wherever you may be
  For if you do you’re sure to rue and cause you to complain
  And you’ll aye rue the day that you said don’t come again….

  ---

  ---

  Maighread heard Eddie Butcher from Magilligan county Derry singing this song many years ago at a festival in Drogheda. Eddie had a marvellous store of songs he was only too happy to sing and share. And yes you’re right …it is the same song as we heard from Joan Baez but in different clothes.

• 8. Geaftaí Bhaile Buí

  Ag geaftaí Bhaile Buí a rinne mise an gníomh
  A bhí amaideach baoth déanta,
  Ag éalú le mraoi seal tamaillt in san oíche
  Ar neamhchead dá raibh faoi na spéartha.
  Ó bhí mé gan bhrí gan mhisneach in mo chroí
  Is í agam ar mhín shléibhe;
  Bhí an codladh a mo chloí agus b’éigean domhsa luí
  Is d’imigh sí ina fíormhaighdean.

  Ag goil a luí don ghréin fán am seo aréir,
  Is agamsa a bhí an scéala buartha;
  Ba é a shamhail domhsa an té a shínfí insa chré
  Ós a Mhuire nach mé an truaighe.
  Is é a déarfadh mo chairde an méid acu a bhí i láthair
  Altaigh leis na mrá a bhuachaill,
  Is an méid a ngoillfeadh orthu mo chás,
  Ó goilleadh siad a saith,
  Fá mo chroí a bheith in mo lár
  Ina ghual dubh.

  Ós a Mhuire agus a Rí nach mairg a bíos
  I dtoiseach an tsaoil le pléisiúr,
  Agus a ghiorracht agus a bíos an tinneas a do cloí
  Is a do tharraingt ar na críocha déanach’;
  Ó níl sé ar an domhan, ní ar bith ’a mhó
  Is peacaí agus is mó dá ndéantar
  Ná an mhaighdeán dheas óg a mhealladh le do phóg
  Is á fágáil faoi bhrón ina dhiaidh sin.

  ---

  At the gates of Baile Buí, I did the deed
  That was foolish and unwisely done
  Going off with a woman for a portion of the night
  In defiance of all that was accepted.
  For I was weak without courage in my heart
  As I took her to a spot in the mountains
  The tiredness overcame me and I had to lie down
  And she left as a true maid (virgin).

  As the sun went down about this time last night
  I had the sorry tale to tell
  You’d compare me to a person who’d been stretched in the clay
  Oh mother Mary am I not a pity
  My friends who were present would say
  Give thanks for the women, my fellow
  And anyone who is affected by my dilemma
  Let them be truly so
  For my heart in my breast
  Is a black coal.

  Oh mother Mary and highest King, isn’t it a terrible pity
  To be enrapt in pleasure in the start of life
  However briefly the sickness afflicts you
  And draws you towards your final end.
  There is nothing in this world more grave
  Nor more sinful of all the things that are done
  Than to entice the young maid with your kiss
  And leave her in sorrow after that.

  ---

  We heard this song from Aodh Ó Duibheannaigh (Hughie Phádaí Hiúdaí). He was a cousin of our father’s and a beautiful singer. Our late friend, the singer, Frank Harte was forever asking Maighread to sing the song as he loved the big interval in the melody. The narrator is unusually reflective about his failed attempt at courtship.

• 9. Eoin Búrcach

  Ó fuist a níon is ná bí craite
  Nár fusa duit fear a fháil ná dís deartháir;
  Tá súil as an rí agam gurb iad mo chlann a tháinig
  Is gurb é an Búrcach a’ chúil doinn a fágadh.

  Ó tá suil as an rí agam gurb iad do chlann a fágadh
  Donnchadh fionn geal chéadmhac mo mháthara;
  Agus an Búrcach a theacht ón ghábhadh
  Ó ná is leis fhéin a ba thrua mo chás-sa.

  Ós a mháithrín dhíleas ó can mar is cóir duit
  Nach é do chliamhain uasal óg é;
  Ní hé mac mrá na mbailteach mór é
  Is gur ina chliamhain ag an iarla a ba chóir é.

  Is nach tú a dhéanfadh mo cheann a dheisiú
  Is nach tú a dhéanfadh mo bhróga a bhreacadh;
  Nach leat a dhéanfainnse casaoid m’ocrais
  Ó nuair nár dhual domh fhéin a ghlacadh.

  Ós a bean ud thall atá ag déanamh gáire
  Nárba fada go raibh agat fios m’ábhair;
  Do cheann cromtha is do chroí cráite
  Is do dhá lámh teanntaithe fá mhac mo mháthara.

  Ó druidigí thart a mhrá na gclócaí
  Seo feoil chugaibh agus ní feoil chóir í;
  Ní feoil muice í ná caoirigh rósta
  Ach an Búrcach uasal a bhí i dtús a óige.

  ---

  Oh hush daughter and don’t be tormented
  Wouldn’t it easier for you to get a husband than two brothers
  I hope to God it’s my family who have come home safely
  And that Bourke of the brown hair has been left behind.

  Oh I hope to God it’s your family who’ve been left behind,
  Blond haired Donncha, my mother’s first son;
  And that Bourke has come safely from the danger
  For he alone would pity my story.

  Oh dear mother sing as you should,
  Isn’t he your noble young son-in-law
  He’s not the son of a woman from the big towns
  And he should have been the son-in-law of the Earl.

  Isn’t it you who would fix my hair
  Isn’t it you would polish my shoes
  Isn’t it to you I’d complain if I was hungry
  Oh when I wasn’t destined to accept it.

  Oh yonder woman who is laughing
  May it not be long until you know the cause of my sorrow
  With your head hung low and your heart tormented
  With your two hands clasped around my mother’s son.

  Oh women of the cloaks draw near around
  Here’s meat coming to you and it’s not proper meat
  It’s not pork meat or roasted mutton
  But noble Bourke who was in the flower of his youth.

  ---

  This is a very old ‘caoineadh’ – keen or lament – that Neilí shared with us many years ago. Versions of it have been found in other parts of Ireland with differing stories about the background. It starts as a dialogue between mother and daughter but it’s mostly the daughter’s voice we hear as she answers her mother, addresses her dead lover and speaks to the keening women who will lament him. Through this we’re given to understand the young woman’s husband has been killed but that her brothers have survived whatever incident that happened. Neilí had a wonderfully detailed story about how this all came about.

• 10. The Newry Highway Man

  In Newry town, I was bred and born
  In Stephen’s Green now I die in scorn
  I served my time to the saddling trade
  But I turned out to be, I turned out to be a roving blade.

  At seventeen I took a wife
  I loved her dearly as I loved my life
  And for to keep her both fine and gay
  I went a robbing, I went a robbing on the King’s Highway.

  I never robbed no poor man yet
  Nor any tradesman did I beset
  I robbed both lords and the ladies bright
  And brought their jewels, and brought their jewels for my heart’s delight.

  I robbed Lord Golding, I do declare
  And Lady Mansell in Grosvenor Square
  I shut the shutters and bid them goodnight
  And home I went then, and home I went then to my heart’s delight.

  To Covent Garden I took my way
  With my dear wife for to see the play
  Lord Fielding’s gang, they did me pursue
  And I was taken I was taken by that cursed crew.

  My father cried “Oh, my darling son”
  My wife she wept and cried “I am undone”
  My mother tore her white locks and cried
  Saying “In the cradle, in the cradle then he should have died”.

  And when I’m dead, and in my grave
  A flashy funeral pray let me have
  With six bold highwaymen to carry me
  Give them good broadswords, give them good broadswords and sweet liberty.

  Six pretty maidens to bear my pall
  Give them white garlands and ribbons all
  And when I’m dead, they will speak the truth
  He was a wild and, he was a wild and a wicked youth.

  ---

  ---

  We’re not sure but we think we first heard this song from the incomparable ‘Johnsons’ in the late 1960s. People disagree about where it first came from but it’s still very popular all over the English speaking world.