An Eala Bhan - Hugh Matheson

An Eala Bhàn

Gur muladach a tha mi,
'S mo chridhe 'n sàs aig bròn
Bhon an uair a dh'fhàg mi
Beanntan àrd a' cheò,
Gleanntanan a' mhànrain,
Nan loch, nam bàgh 's nan òb,
'S an eala bhàn tha snàmh orra
Gach là air bheil mi 'n tòir.

A Mhagaidh na biodh cùram ort,
A rùin ged gheibhinn bàs -
Cò againn ann am measg an t-sluaigh
A mhaireas buan gu bràth?
Chan eil sinn uile ach air chuairt,
Mar dhìthein buaile dh'fhàs
Bheir siantannan na bliadhna sìos
'S cha tog a' ghrian an-àird.

Tha mise 'n seo 's mo shùil san iar
Nuair chrom a' ghrian san t-sàl;
Mo bheannachd leig mi às a dèidh
Ged thrèig i mi cho tràth,
Gun fhios am faic mi màireach i
Nuair dhìreas i gu h-àrd,
Is iomairt lann gu bhith ri chèil'
Nuair 's lèir dhuinn beul an là.

Ach ma tha e 'n dàn dhomh
On bhlàr gun till mi beò
Is gu faic mi 'n t-àite
San deach ar n-àrach òg
An sin bidh crathadh làmhan ann
Is bilean blàth toirt phòg
'S mo ghealltanas bi pàighte dhut
Le fàinne chur mu d' mheòir.

Oidhche mhath leat fhèin, a rùin,
Nad leabaidh chùbhraidh bhlàth;
Dèan cadal sàmhach air a’ chùil
Dèan dùsgadh sunndach slàn.
Tha mise 'n seo san truinnsidh fhuar
‘S nam chluasan fuaim a' bhàis,
Gun dùil ri faighinn às le buaidh
‘S tha 'n cuan cho buan ri shnàmh.

The Fair Swan

I feel desolate,
my heart seared by sorrow,
since I left
the high misty hills,
the beguiling glens
of loch, bay and strome,
and the fair swan who stays there
and I pursue unceasingly.

Maggie, my love, do not grieve
even if I die -
where is the man among us
who is immortal?
We are all of us on a brief journey,
just like the field flower that grows
and succumbs to the changing season,
the sun no longer able to able to revive it.

I am here gazing westwards
since the sun sank in the sea.
I took my sincere farewell of her,
feeling she left me too soon
and not knowing if I shall see her again tomorrow
as she rises skywards,
for battle will be joined
when we see the glimmer of day.

If fate allows
that I get back alive
and once again see the place
where I was brought up,
we will be there clasping hands,
warm lips exchanging kisses,
and my promise to you will be sealed with a ring on your finger.

Goodnight my love,
in your warm fragrant bed,
a quiet sleep to you
and a joyous wholesome awakening.
I am here in a cold trench,
the sounds of death constantly in my ears,
with little hope of emerging victorious,
and the sea is too wide to swim.

Category:

Music

Tags:

• Gaelic
• Gaidhlig
• Folk
• Traditional
• Scottish
• Scotland
• OneTrueMedia

[DadsBlueAngel]

Are the pictures from Crimea?

[animalunaris]

@DadsBlueAngel - they should mostly be First World War.

[Donegal]

Is it from Alan Lomax collection?

[animalunaris]

Again, recorded from the BBC website so I'm not sure where it was from originally. I just held the microphone up to the speakers!

[nerdtek]

This is the only version of this song that I've heard that is in line with the sentiment of the lyrics of this song. Considering the song is a lament, the jaunty feel that is usually used when this song is performed is not really appropriate. I really love this version.

[nerdtek]

This is the only version of this song that I've heard that is in line with the sentiment of the lyrics of this song. Considering the song is a lament, the jaunty feel that is usually used when this song is performed is not really appropriate. I really love this version.

[nighthawk006phoenix]

Great... but can't beat the Julie Fowlis version ;>

[Gaelforced]

@nerdtek fair and good comment...

[dathnafala]

Uill, tha sin math ri cluintinn. Thanks for uploading, a graidh.

[LindsayCurran]

Great post, still again, animalunaris! I especially appreciate the lyrics in both Gaelic and English! Thank you!

[Corridoamor]

I love this song. I have not heard it for ages. Thanks for the upload!!!!

[MacEachaidh]

Ah animalunaris, many thanks for posting this!

While this version may not be to the taste of those accustomed to studio recordings with instrumental backing, it's still great to hear one of the tradition-bearers of Gaelic music putting the song forward, and to be able to appreciate his way with a song.

Móran taing dhuibh, gu dearbh.