Description
[Bring me back last night] Irish Folk/Gaelic
- Líon muid na Gloiní [We filled the glasses] / Pilleadh chun Oileáin [Returning to the Island]
- Tráthnóna Beag Aréir [Late Yesterday Evening]
- Seachrán Chearbhaill [The Ramblings of Carrule]
- An Spealadóir [The Mower]
- Sean-Bhríste Mór [Big Tattered Trousers]
- Máire Bhéal Átha hAmhnais [Mary from Ballyhaunis]
- Seoladh na nGamhna [Directing the Calves]
- Máire Ní Mhaoileoin [Mary Malone]
- An Rábaire [The Dashing Blade]
- Méiltí Cheann Dubhrann [Sand Dunes of Ranafast]
- Líon muid na Gloiní [We filled the glasses] – reprise [re-mix of tr.1]
Tabhair ar ais an Oíche Aréir [Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh & Dúlamán] Errigal SCD007 [2000]
“Those who go for world music will be enthralled… wonderfully varied…this is a gem of a CD and a pleasure to listen to.” Aiden O’Hara, Irish Music Magazine
Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh
Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh
Tabhair ar ais an Oíche Aréir
Bring Back Last Night
“A Rí na Glóire Gile! Tabhair ar ais an oíche aréir!” [Oh King of the Brightest Glory! Bring back last night!]
This line, written by the lovesick Donegal poet Ó Grianna, is taken from his evocative song “Tráthnóna Beag Aréir” [“Late Yesterday Evening”]. It has become almost an obsession with Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh, these nocturnal things in songs and paintings. They certainly are the main themes of his last two albums. The first was entitled “Oíche go Maidin” [“Dusk till Dawn”] and in the opening song on this current album, “Líon muid na Gloiní”, Ó Dochartaigh whispers at the end “Beidh oíche go maidin ‘dtoigh Hiúdaí Sheáin Óig!” [“We’ll have a night-until-morning in the house of Hughie of Young Seán!”].
Bíodh sin mar atá, tá dornán eile ar an cheirnín seo de scoith na n-amhrán as Iarthar Thír Chonaill cóirithe go breá snásta ag An Dochartach., amhráin a mheallfadh an Chailleach Bhuí féin is í a’ srannfaidh is a’ tarraingt an phláincéid léi!
Apart from the Donegal songs there are two from Connaght: the beautiful pastorale, “Seoladh na nGamhna” [“Driving the Calves”] and the strange and haunting “Seachrán Chearbhaill” [ “The Ramblings of Carrule” ]. A song, a story, a recitation – call it whay you will – “Seachrán Chearbhaill” is reputedly the oldest piece of vernacular Gaelic literature to have survived in oral tradition on the island of Ireland. And, whatismore, it has never been arranged with musical accompaniment before, although its inherent, pulsating rhythms are a challenge to any musical arranger.
A plethora of traditional Irish song tunes and dance tunes can be heard on this disc, weaving in and out of each other like some mediaeval tapestry, tying together the many threads which make up Ireland’s oldest musical traditions.
Na Ceoltóirí :
Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh, lead vocals, harmony vocals, guitar, percussion
Fraoichín Nig Aonghusa, harmony vocals
Steáfán Ó hAnnagáin, bodhráns, uilleann pipes, flute, whistles,
various North African & Asian percussion
Aodh Mac Ruairí, harmony vocals
Mike Cosgrave, keyboards, piano accordion, guitar
Ben Clark, drums
Mark Griffiths, bass guitar
Luke Daniels, button accordeon
Guy Fletcher, drums
Saskia Tomkins, cello
1. Líon muid na Gloiní We filled the glasses 4:35
[Pilleadh Chun Oileáin] [Returning to the Island]
2. Tráthnóna Beag Aréir Late Yesterday Evening 3:55
3. Seachrán Chearbhaill The Ramblings of Carrule 5:06
4. An Spealadóir The Mower 2:49
5. Sean-Bhríste Mór Big Tattered Trousers 2:35
6. Máire Bhéal Átha hAmhnais Mary from Ballyhaunis 2:56
7. Seoladh na nGamhna Driving the Calves 1:54
.
8. Máire Ní Mhaoileoin Mary Malone 3:59
9. An Rábaire The Dashing Blade 3:20
10. Líon muid na Gloiní [reprise] We filled the glasses 4:35
[meascadh Hiúdaí Sheáin Óig]
——–
PRODUCTION Steáfán Hannigan,
Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh
ENGINEER Steáfán Hannigan
ASSISTED BY James Dunkley
SLEEVE NOTES Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh
PHOTOGRAPHY Petra Riebeling
LAYOUT &
COVER PAINTING Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh
RECORDING Oisín Studios, Wolverton
MASTERING,
PRINTING,
PRESSING Birnam CD
All tracks trad. arranged and adapted with additional music by Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh,
except: track 1, trad. adapted by Ned Curran with words by Pádraig Ó Baoighill and arranged with additional music by Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh ; track 2, written by Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh [MCPS, IMRO] © ; track 5 trad. arr. Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh with additional music by Daryl Hall & Holly Knight [ medley published in part by Zomba Music Pub. Ltd., IQ Music Ltd. and BMG Music
Pub. Ltd.]
SCD007
1. Líon muid na Gloiní [Pilleadh chun Oileáin]
Curfá Líon muid na gloiní ‘gus líon muid na cártaí,
‘Gus d’ól muid ár sáith i dtoigh Hiúdaí Sheáin Óig.
Bhí an géarbhach ‘s an bháisteach amuigh ar na sclátaí
Nuair isteach ar a’ táirseach tháinig Hiúdaí Bhriain Eoghain.
1.
É féin is a bhaicle a’ tarraingt ón choigchríoch
A brath dhul chun oileáin is an oíche mar bhí
Ach bhí an géarbhach ‘s an bháisteach róthrom
ag na rámhaí
‘S chaith siad a gceirtlín in íochtar a ‘toigh.
2.
Bhí tine mhór mhónadh chomh croíúil is chomh craosach
‘S na gloiní a’ loinnriú go cíocrach os ár gcomhair
Bhí an portar mar uachtar is an leann go deas cumhra
‘S an bhruinneall dheas álainn ag síor-dháileadh beoir.
3.
Tharraing muid ar a’ chlúdaigh ‘s na gloiní ‘nár gcrúba
Is d’ordaigh muid póitín de bhunadh Bhriain Eoghain
A leithéid d’oíche a theacht chun na tíre
‘S gan críostaí ar na gaobhair ó mhaidin go neoin.
4.
Tháinig ainnir dheas álainn go caoin ‘s go mánla
‘S a gruaig dheas fhionn-bhán anuas lena gruaidh
Chuir sí na gloiní anuas ar na clárthaí
“Bíodh an deoch sin ar bord ó Hiúdaí Sheáin Óig”
5.
Bhí róisteacha gaoithe ‘s an fharraige a’ búirthigh
Bhí an t-oileán faoi smúid dhubh amuigh ins an cheo
Ní fhéadfadh mac máthara dhul amach ins an oíche
Ach bhí féile ‘gus fáilte ‘dtoigh Hiúdaí Sheáin Óig.
6.
Thoisigh na scéaltaí is an seanchas ón choigchríoch
Ceol agus amhráin agus glionndar go leor
Ach fág mar atá sé ‘gus spreidheamh ar an aimsir
Beidh oíche go maidin ‘dtoigh Hiúdaí Sheáin Óig.
We filled the glasses [Returning to the Island]
An Scéal : A stormy night… the fishing boats return…soon it’s the warm glow of the inside of the tavern where turf fires blaze brightly and pretty barmaids dispense copious draughts of uisce beatha to the fishermen of the island. And just when the company is settling down to an oíche go maidin by the fireside, to a night of music, song, story and laughter, yet another well-loved character crosses the threshold ….Hiúdaí Bhriain Eoghain!
Na Foinsí: [i] focail: Padaí Tharlaigh Phaidí [Pádraig Ó Baoighill] as Rann na Feirste.
[ii] ceol: seanphort traidisiúnta ó Ned Curran, Baile Mhuineacháin.
[iii] leagan ar an cheirnín seo bunaithe ar amhránaíocht a chualathas ó Mháire, Bríd agus
Séamus Ó Baoighill, Coláiste Bhríde, Rann naFeirste sna hochtóidí. D’athraigh mé féin
rithim an amhráin píosa maith.
.
6. Geaftaí Bhaile Buí
I
Ag geaftaí Bhaile Buí a rinne mise an gníomh
A bhí amaideach baoth-dhéanta
Ealódh le mnaoi seal tamaillt insan oíche
Ar neamh-chead ‘a raibh faoi na spéartha
Mar bhí mé (lag) gan bhrígh gan mhisneach i mo chlí
‘S í agam ar mhín shléibhe
Bhí an codladh ‘a mo chloí ‘gus b’éigin domhsa luí
Agus d’imigh sí ‘na fíor-mhaighdean.
II
‘Gabháil a luí don ghréin fán am seo aréir
Is agamsa bhí ‘n scéala buartha
Ba é a shamhailt domhsa a’ té a shínfí insa’ chré
Ó’s a Mhuire, nach mé an truaighe!
‘Sé deirfeadh mo chairde a’ méid acu bhí ‘láthair
“Altaigh leis na mná, a bhuachaill”
‘S a’ méid a ngoillfeadh orthu mo chás ghoillfeadh siad a saith
Fa mo chroí a bheith ‘mo lár ‘na ghual dubh.
III
Dá mbínn-se thall sa Spáinn ‘mo luí ar leabaí ‘n bháis
Agus chluinninn-se do dháil in Éirinn-se
Go n-éireóchainn chomh sámh leis an bhradán ar a’ tsnámh
I nduibheagán i lár na hÉirne.
Focal ar bith mná ní chreidfidh mé go brách
‘Mura bhfá’ mise scríobhtha i mBéarla é
Gur chaith mé naoi lá ag cleasaíocht leis a’ bhás
A dúil go bhfuighinn spás ar éigin.
IV
Ó, a Mhuire (a)gus a Rí nach mairg a bíos
I dtoiseach an tsaoil le pléisiúir
‘Gus a ghiorracht is a bíos an tinneas a’ do chloí
‘S ‘a do tharraingt ar na críocha déanacha
Níl sé ar a’ domhan ní ar bith ba mhó
Is peacaí (a)gus is mó dá ndéantar
Ná an mhaighdean deas óg a mhealladh le do phóig
Is a fágáil faoi bhrón ‘na dhiaidh sin.
The Gates of the Yellow Town
An Scéal: A man takes his sweetheart late one night to a favourite nook up in the mountains but falls asleep… at the opportune moment. She leaves him there and then with her virginity intact [“…d’imigh sí ‘na fíor-mhaighdean.”]. She has, seemingly, found another suitor and the subsequent sequence of events leaves the man heart-broken and distrustful of all women. In the last verse, however, there is an indication that he was perhaps the architect of his own demise.
Na Foinsí: Hughie Phádaí Hiúdaí [Aodh Ó Duibheannaigh] as Rann na Feirste.
Seoladh na nGamhna
1
Tráthnóinín déanach ar thaobh an ghleanna,
‘S mé ‘seoladh na ngamhna faoin bhfásach,
Sea dhearcas taobh liom an spéirbhean chailce
Chiúntais bhanúil náireach;
D’fhiosríos féin go séimh den ainnir,
An éinn’ í thar lear do tharla;
“Ag lorg na ngamhna ‘s ea d’fhágas an baile
‘Gus ceann ní bhfaighead go lá ‘cu”.
2.
Tá crainnín cumhra i lúib na coille
Is ragham araon go lá ann
Mar a mbeidh ceol na n-éan dár síor-chur a chodladh
Is gheobhaimid na gamhna amárach;
Gheobham cead saor ó mhaoraibh na coille
Féar a thabhairt go lá dhóibh
‘S le fáinne an lae beam araon ‘nár seasamh
Ag seoladh na ngamhna faoin bhfásach.
3.
“Dá mbeadh a fhios ag mo mhámaí is dá mbeadh a fhios ag
mo dheadaí
Mise ‘gus tusa a bheith in éineacht
Fiche buile de mhaide a thabharfaí domh ar maidin
Is a Dhia, cad a dhéanfaimís an lá sin?”
“Fóill, fóill, a chailín, ní mise a dhéin dada ort
Ach a’ rud a dhéanadh cheanna le do mháithrín
Seo barr mo chúig méar duit, a ghrá agus a chumainn,
‘S a chéad searc mo chúig chéad slán leat”.
Driving the Calves
An Scéal: A beautiful young woman wandering alone on a hillside late one evening is, apparently, lamenting the straying of her herd of calves. She meets a young man who pledges to sort everything out for her down to the last detail, including a cosy little hollow under the shade of a fragrant tree where they might spend the night together. She regrets her actions the next morning and wonders what her parents might say or do. “Twenty whacks of the rod I’ll surely get”, she cries. But the cocky young shepherd tells her that such is the stuff of life. “I had your own mother in exactly the same way”, he boasts, “so, my five hundred farewells to you, my dear!”
Na Foinsí: [I] Máire Ní Scolaí – véarsaí 1& 2.
[ii] Hughie Phádaí Hiúdaí – véarsa 3.
[iii] Cornphíopa “Walshe’s”
2. Dúlamán na Binne Buí
1.
A ‘níon mhín ó, sin anall na fir shuirí !
A mháthair mhín ó, cuir mo roithleán go dtí mé !
Curfá: Dúlamán na Binne Buí, Dúlamán-a-Gaelach,
Dúlamán na Binne Buí, Dúlamán-a-Gaelach
2.
Tá ceann buí óir ar a’ Dúlamán Gaelach;
Tá dhá chluais mhaola ar a’ Dúlamán Gaelach.
3.
Tá mo ‘níon a dhul a pósadh ar a’ Dúlamán Gaelach;
Gan stocaí, gan bhróga, is a léine ina bratógaí.
4.
Rachaimid ‘un an Iúir leis a’ Dúlamán Gaelach;
Ceannochaidh mise bróga daora ar a’ Dúlamán Gaelach.
5.
Bróga breaca dubha ar a’ Dúlamán Gaelach;
Tá bairéad agus triús ar a’ Dúlamán Gaelach.
6.
Chuir mé scéala chuici go gceannochainn slipper shoes dí;
‘s é an scéala a chuir sí chugam go ndéanfadh button boots í
7.
Is cosúil Billí Buach leis a’ Dúlamán Gaelach,
‘s ronna ar a shúile agus drúcht ar a fhéasóg.
8.
Cad é thug tú ‘na tíre? arsa ‘n Dúlamán Gaelach.
Ag suirí le do níon, arsa ‘n Dúlamán Maorach.
[gan curfá anseo]
9.
Chan fhaigheann tú mo ‘níon, arsa ‘n Dúlamán Gaelach.
Maise, fuadóidh mé í liom, arsa ‘n Dúlamán Maorach.
10.
Dúlamán na Binne Buí, Dúlamán a’ tSléibhe,
Dúlamán na Farraige, Dúlamán a’ Déididh.
Dúlamán [Seaweed] of the Yellow Edging
An Scéal: “Daughter,dear daughter, the courting men are coming!” “Mother, dear mother, set my spinning wheel a-turning!” The Dúlamán men are in town to sell their seaweed and charm the young women. They are identified always by the particular seaweed they hawk: yellow-edge, golden-head, blunt-ears, runny-nose, wet-beard, etc. And the uses the seaweed is put to are as varied and as colourful as the nick-names: anything from the curing of a tooth-ache to the dying of cloth. One mother is distraught at the idea of her daughter marrying the “Gaelic” Dúlamán with no shoes, no stockings and a tattered rag for a shirt. But they’ll go to Newry and buy him “high-class speckled black shoes”, a beret and some breeches. Another Dúlamán man has promised his lady-friend “slipper shoes” but she wants nothing less than “button boots”! “What brings you to these parts?”, asks “Gaelic” Dúlamán. “To court your daughter”, says “Edible” Dúlamán. “Well, you can’t have her”, he says. “Then I’ll steal her away from you!”
Na Foinsí: [I] focail : “Amhráin Chúige Uladh” [1927] agus tuilleadh ó Albert Fry.
[ii] ceol: Nua-chumtha ag Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh [1999].
7. Máire Bhéal Átha hAmhnais
Curfá: Béal Átha hAmhnais, Máire Bhéal Átha hAmhnais
Béal Átha hAmhnais, Máire Bhéal Átha hAmhnais.
1.
Ar a ghabháil ‘na’ chuain domh is mé bhí go huaibhreach
Tinn lag buartha i m’intinn,
Bhí mé ‘féachaint uaim ar an spéir aduaidh
‘S é ag éalú uaim ‘na trealltaí
Ach faraoir géar gear ‘s mé an ceann gan chéill
Nár ghlac mé comhairle mo mhaithrín féin
‘S gur dhúirt sí liom fríd chomhrá ghrinn
Go Béal Átha hAmhnais ná triall ann.
2.
Ach ba mhór ‘thug mé grá do mo cailín bán
An lá breá i gcúl an gharraí
‘S do do bhéilín tláth mar chúr na trá
‘S go ghruaidh chomh dearg leis na caorthainn
Chuir mé mo lámh ar a cúm, ‘s bhí mo chroí lán gruaim
Ag ceiliúr caoin na n-éanlaith
‘S nach trua gan mise ag éaló leat
Faoi rópaí ‘s seoltaí séidte.
3.
Orú, a chuid ‘s a rún dá ngluaisfeá ar siúl
Go tír na long as Éirinn
Níl tuirse croí nó tinneas cinn
Nach leighisfí ann gan amhras
Nó ba tú mo rogha inniu is inné
Agus coinnigh agat féin ón bhás mé
Is gan grásta Dé ní mhairfidh mé
Ar an tsráid seo i mBéal Átha hAmhnais.
Mary from Ballyhaunis
An Scéal: A young wayward priest has fallen in love with a certain Mary from the town of Ballyhaunis, in the County of Mayo, and his mother discretely advises him to leave the land. The song charters the dilemma that the man has found himself in. In the first verse we see him heading down to the ships in melancholy mood, the alluring mackerel sky above only adding to his distraught. He then reflects on the beautiful Mary herself: lips curved like ripples on the sea and cheeks as red as rowan berries…”Why can’t we elope together in some little wind-filled sailing ship? In the final verse he is imagining that she is there by his side sailing off with him to “the land of ships” where heartbreak and sickness are unheard of.
Na Foinsí: [I] an t-amhrán: Annie Eoghain Éamoinn as Dobhar [ “Ar a dhul ‘na chuain domh”].
[ii] curfá : ceol agus focail le Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh.
5. An Spealadóir
1..
Órú, ‘chailíní ‘s chailíní nach trua liomsa ‘s scéal
Mise ‘ghabháil ar fharraige ‘s gan dúil agam ar fhéir
Bígí ag bhur bpaidreacha gach oíche dhul un leapa díbh
Ag dúil go bpillfinnse ag tús bhaint an fhéir.
Curfá: Spealadóir, spealadóir maith sástaí mé
A bhain a bhuile thall is i bhfus
Spealadóir, spealadóir ins an fhéir
A bhain a bhuile thall is i bhfus
Spealadóir, spealadóir maith sástaí mé.
2.
Thíos a chois a chladaigh atá mo mhuintir féin
Mo dheádaí ‘gus mo mhámaí ‘gus mo chairde uilig go léir
Tá ór buí go frasach acu, níl dúil ar bith sa strás acu
Sea grá mo chroí ‘s an spealadóir is é bhainfeadh an féar.
3.
‘Gabháil fríd Chluain Meala domhsa meánoíche aréir
Casadh orm cailín deas ba chiúin deas a béal
Ó bhain mé díom mo hata agus d’umhlaigh mé go talamh dí
Is d’fhiafraigh mé go ceanasach dí a bpósfadh sí mé.
4.
Spealadóir maith sástaí mé i bhfus ag an ghréin
A bhfuil speal mhaith fhada agam ‘gus faobhair ar an fhéir
O, thug mé cloch is gaineamh dí ón tsál go dtí an barr amach
A óinnsigh insan mhóintigh is a spealadóir an fhéir.
The Mower
An Scéal: The nomadic, colourful life of the mower, or scythe-man, is encapsulated here in four short verses. The life on the road, the trips overseas, the places visited, the pretty farm girls and the inevitable return home to the little house by the shore.
Na Foinsí: [I] an t-amhrán:Hughie Phádaí Hiúdaí as Rann na Feirste.
[ii] curfá: ceol le Daryl Hall agus Holly Knight ; focail le Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh.
8. Tráthnóna Beag Aréir
1..
Thíos i lár a’ ghleanna
Tráthnóna beag aréir
Agus a’ drúcht ‘na dheora geala
Ina luí ar bharr an fhéir
‘Sea casadh domh-sa an ainnir
b’áille gnúis is pearsa,
Is í sheol mo stuaim ‘un seachráin
Tráthnóna beag aréir.
2.
Agus a Rí nár lách ár n-ealaín
‘Gabháil síos a’ gleann aréir
Ag éaló fríd a’ chanach
Agus ciúnas ins a ‘spéir
Órú, rún mo chléibh’ nár mhilis
Ár súgadh croí ‘s nár ghoirid
Ó’s a Rí na Glóire Gile,
Tabhair ar ais an oíche aréir.
3.
Dá bhfaighinnse arís cead pilleadh
‘Gus labhairt le stór mo chléibh’
Nó dá bhfaighinnse bua ar chinniúint
Cérbh mhiste liom fán tsaol?
Shiúlfainn leat fríd chanach
A’s fríd mhéilte ar chiumhas na mara
Agus dúiche Dé dá gcaillinn
Go bpógfainnse do bhéal.
Late Yesterday Evening
An Scéal: Image after image of extraordinary beauty emanate from the poem: the amorous feelings of the poet and the loveliness of the landscape intermingle effortlessly and bring us along down through the glen, through the dewy grass, through the bog-cotton, under the glorious evening sky, over the sand-dunes and down to the water’s edge. In this dreamy atmosphere he briefly meets and kisses the radiant young girl he adores so much, the one whose beauty could drive a man to near distraction. After this momentary encounter, they then go their separate ways. The morning comes and all he can say is: ”O King of the Brightest Glory! Bring me back last night! ”
Na Foinsí: [I] Ceol agus focail le Séamus Ó Grianna [“Máire”], scríbhneoir as Rann na Feirste.
[ii] an t-amhrán ó Albert Fry agus Máirtín Mac Grianna as Béal Feirste.
10. An Rábaire
Curfá Ó Thulaigh na Gréine go Mullach Chill Éinne
Is go Cromadh na Leanbh ‘na dhiaidh sin,
Ó Phort Mhuilinn Ghráinne go Sléibhte Chill Áirne,
Níl mo leithéid-se thoir, thiar is thall.
1.
D’éirigh ariamh liomsa imeacht ó mo mhuintir
Agus taisteal domh síos cois Féile
Mar shíl mé dá n-insinn go minic idir dhaoine
Go bhfaighfinnse luach mo cheird’ ann.
2.
Ag taisteal na slí domh-sa, casadh chun tí mé
Agus d’iarr mé cead suí go séimh ann
D’fhreagair gan mhoill mé an tseanbhean chríonna
Agus dúirt nach raibh slí aici d’éinne.
3.
Labhair an bhrídeach leis an mhnaoi chríonna
“Nach bhfuil i do chroí aon daonnacht?
Rábaire an tsaoil mhóir a chur amach san oíche
Ag taisteal na slí is é ina aonar.”
4.
“Mura bhfuil tuí agat nó leaba go luíodh sé ‘r
Tabhair cead suí istigh féin dó”
Mo hata a scaoil mé de mhullach mo chinn
Agus ghabh mé léi míle buíochas.
Curfá
5.
Nuair a bhí am dhul a luí ann d’ordaigh siad síos mé
Go seomra beag galánta aolmhar
Ina raibh leaba chlúimh mhíne faoi bhratacha líne
‘Gus cuilteanna ar dhroim a chéile.
6.
Ba ghearr san oíche go dtáinig taobh liom
An ainnir ‘gus í ina léine;
Ba bhlasta is ba chaoin mar a ghlac mé comaoin
Agus geallaim gur shín sí taobh liom.
Curfá
7.
‘Feadh tamaill ‘na dhiaidh seo a chaith muid an oíche
Mise is mo mhaoin, ag pléaracht
(Is) nuair nach raibh mé á fáscadh le mo chroí isteach
Ba bhlasta mar d’inis mé scéal di.
8.
Gheall mé gach ní dí, culaith bhreá shíoda
Ó mhullach a cinn go féar glas
Siopa branda go mbeadh beath-uisce is fíon ann
Siúicrí milse agus tae ann
Curfá.
9.
Ba ghearr san oíche go dtáinig fear a ‘tí isteach
‘S lena bhata mór draighin a phléasc mé
“A rábaire an tsaoil mhóir, nach bhfuil eagla an dlí ort
Agus tú a bheith sínte taobh léi!”.
10.
Tusa, óró, a bhrídeach, tar anseo ‘níos chugam
Is ná himigh ón áit seo, a chladhaire,
Go gcuirfidh mé rópa ort is go dtiocfaidh na péas ort
Is caithfidh m’níon tú a dhaoradh.”
Curfá
The Dashing Blade
An Scéal: The song relates the adventures of an 18th-century rake, footloose and fancy-free on the back roads of Co. Kerry, who stops at a cottage looking for lodgings for the night. The old wizened woman who answers the door turns him away but then a younger woman inside the house intervenes on his behalf and he is brought in. In a showy display of elegance, possible only in the Age of Enlightenment, he removes his plumed hat in a sweeping gesture and thanks them all profusely.
When bedtime comes he is taken down to a beautiful little whitewashed room equipped with a fine, feathered bed, linen sheets and quilts heaped up on one another. In the middle of the night the young woman enters the bedroom, scantly dressed, and the man takes her willingly into his bed. As the night goes on, the fun gets better and when he isn’t showering her with kisses he’s telling her fancy stories to amuse her. He promises her everything: a dress of silk that would touch the ground, a brandy-shop with whiskey and wine in it, sugar, sweets and tea! But later in the night the man of the house appears in the room with a big blackthorn stick and gives him a good thrashing! “Are you not afraid of the law, you rascal?” he says, “lying there beside her? And you, little wife, fetch some ropes and tie him up.” Evidently, our bold rake has been really duped by this family. They are also sending for the police and planning to take legal proceedings against him!
Na Foinsí: [I] An t-amhránaí Eoghan Mac Cárthaigh as Cnoc na mBró, Co. Chiarraí [1975].
[ii] Focail: ó Chathal Goan [litir a fuarthas 1989]
[iii] Curfá nua cumtha ag Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh [idir cheol agus fhocail] is d’athraíodh
cuid de na líntí san amhrán chomh maith.
9. Sean-Bhríste Mór
1.
A’ Mhuire ‘sa Rí gan orm na méara
‘Bhuailfeadh port ar phíobaí ceoil
Bhuailfinn port aoibhinn a ‘taobh seo ‘n tír
Nach gcuala sibh ‘riamh a léithid go fóill.
Níl cuach ar chrann nach rachadh ‘un sgaoill
Níl gearrfhia i dtom nach bhfuígfeadh a saol,
Níl duine ‘bhfuair bás nach n-éireochadh slán
Le haoibhneas mo mhálaí ‘séideadh ceoil.
2.
Is buartha bocht imníoch ‘chaith mise ‘n geimhreadh
Gorta ‘gus ámpla tharam go leor
Cuid do mo mhuintir eadar dhá chondae
Cuid i bhFearmanach ‘gus cuid i dTír Eoghain
Ach tiocfad ar ball le ruaidhteach an tsamhraidh
A’s buailfead go teann mo bhata ar a’ bhord
Suidhfead i seomra ‘s scairtfead ar dhram
‘Sé, ‘deirfead sí liom “Cuir glaic ar a scorn’”.
3.
Glórthaí gan suim a chuir sí mo chionn
A’ bhean a dúirt liom-sa go gceannóchainn bó
Is gan fhios cén poll a bhfúigfidhe í ann
‘S nach n-ólfainn-se pionnta dá bainne go deo
Tá bainne ‘gus im go fairsing le roinnt
Ag mná Mhín na gCuibhreann ‘s mo bhean-sa gan deor
‘Bhean is fearr a bhéas liom, sí is fearr a gheobhas roinnt
Ná an bhean a gheobh’ greim sa tsean-bhríste mhór.
Big Tattered Trousers
An Scéal: It’s the song of a man fond of music, good company and a glass or two. He wishes he had the fingers of the piper so that he could charm everyone with magical tunes they had never heard before. Cuckoos, hares and other animals would spring from their nests and dens with the enchantment of his musical bag – even the dead would arise!
But he reflects on the misery of last winter: poverty, hardship and his own people driven out into neighbouring counties. However, with the coming of summer he would return with a few gold coins, slap them on the counter, along with his hat, and call for a dram. The landlady would say, “ Get a grip on its throat!”
If he loves the music of the pipes and the clinking of glasses, he certainly doesn’t want to hear the empty music of his nagging wife’s voice who would prefer if he bought a good milking cow; one he could milk and drink from on his way home [instead of wasting his good money on alcohol]. The women of Mín na gCuibhreann have milk and butter in plenty and are willing to share. He’d prefer a wife who’d share than a mean one who only wants to patch up the big tattered trousers!
Na Foinsí: [I] “Cnuasacht de Cheoltaí Uladh” [1944]
[ii] “Port an Deoraí ” [Ceoltóirí Chualann, 1961]
3. Seachrán Chearbhaill
1.
Agus lá breá dá ndeacha mise a’ breathnú ar an spéirbhean bhreá,
Mar b’shiúid í ainnirín na malaí ‘gus na ngealchrobh lámh.
Bhí a grua mar an balla le go mbreactar air an t-aol mar bhláth,
Is a seang-mhalaí searca a nglaoitear ar an fhaontsúil bhreá.
2.
Ó bhí siúd aici, deir Peadar más (a) fíor le rá
Ó rós-bhéilín tanaí le caiseal agus toinnbhéal tláth
Bhí pingin insan mhaide aici ‘s dhá leith-phinghin eile anuas ar a’ chlár,
Ní raibh fáil aici ar an chluiche údan ó mhaidin nó go n-éiríodh an lá.
3.
Muise, an gcluineann sibhse mise libh, a chailíní na sráide údan thiar
A’ bhfuil mé i ngean oraibh le fada is mé faoi ghrásta Dé?
Tabhair an scéala uaim chuici agus aithris dí nach taobh léi atáim
Mar go bhfuil sin bean eile le fada a’ mo chloí le grá
A’ bhfuil lán doirne domhaine ins gach buinne dá dlaoi-fholt bhreá
Nó an bhfuil siad ina gcodladh mar is mithid daoibh m’úrscéal a fháil.
Dár seo ‘gus dár siúd – is é an t-úrscéal a bhí ansiúd ná triúr
bodachaí i dtús Earraigh a chuaigh ar thóir mónadh, iad
fhéin agus an dá mhadaí con a bhí acu. .Chuaigh siad ag iarraidh
cead coilleadh ar a’ Choirbíneach agus thug sé sin daofa.
Chroch siad leofa a bpéire tuannaí cúl-ramhra béal-tanaí..
Dhearmad siad a ‘tapaidh ach thugadar a’ mí-thapaidh leo.
Bhriseadar na giairsí (giarsaí) ach lig siad na maidí rámha
leis a ‘tsruth.
4.
Muise ar arraingeacha eagailte domh-sa nó pianta báis,
Mar atá mé ‘a mo stancadh ag an arraing ‘tá dhul fríd mo lár
Ó b’fhearr liom seal fada ‘bheinn ag breathnú ar a’ méin-chnis bhreá
Is dá bréagadh go maidin cé go mb’aor sin domh a leithéid a rá.
Dár seo ‘gus dár siúd – is é an t-úrscéal a bhí ansiúd ná Cormaic
Mac Airt mac Choinn Mac Thréanmhór uí Bhaoiscne a chuaigh
ag tomhais na léim ag binne brice bua a bhí i mBinn Éadain
Mhic Éata Mhic Amhalghaidh, an áit a dtáinig an chéad loing
is an céad laoch go hÉirinn ariamh.
5.
Órú dheamhan sin gort socair nach i bhfogus dó ‘tá nóinín fraoigh
Agus dheamhan sin an loch ar bith gan abhainn ‘bheith ‘gabháil
uaithi síos.
Tá an reithe seo ar sodair gus níl aon chónaí faoi
Is ní minic a tháinig sonas gan an donas ‘bheith in orlaí fríd.
Dár seo ‘gus dár siúd – is é an t-úrscéal a bhí ansiúd ná reithe
mór mo mháthar móire a chuaigh siar sa teampall ag
réabadh amach “déascannaí”. Mara dtige siad roimhe reithe
mór mo mháthar móire déanfaidh sé an diabhal sa teampall mhór.
(i)
Má théann tú thart siar (ansin) chuig an tsean-bheainín bhéasach
A bhfuil aici scata de pháistí bréagach’
Cuimil do bhosa go sleamhain dá n-éadáin
Fainic an lochtofá tada dá dtréartha
Is an waigéaró wéaro, is í an chraoibhín gheal donn.
(ii)
Má théann tú thart siar (ansin) in ascal a’ tomáin
Fainic tú féin ar eas údan Shiobháin
Báthadh dhá chaora inti minseach is mionnán
Capall Uí Dhomhnaill a chú is a ghearrán
Is an waigéaró wéaró, is í an chraoibhín gheal donn.
The Ramblings of Carrule
An Scéal: Cearbhall Ó Dálaigh [fl.1590-1630] was court poet and harper to the Kavanaghs of Ossory in the south east of Ireland and both he and Eileanóir, the daughter of his patron, were in love with each other. Unfortunately, her father had arranged for her to be married to another man. Among Ó Dálaigh’s duties in the castle was the composition of a special piece for the wedding and its performance at the ceremony. All of the wedding guests, of course, thought Cearbhall was speaking and singing gibberish that day when in fact he was communicating with Eileanóir in the piece and asking her to elope with him, suggesting certain meeting places and hiding places. Hence the significance of the “ramblings”. As the guests got merrier, Eileanóir and Cearbhall slipped out the castle door to their pre-arranged rendezvous.
Eileanóir’s father was, naturally, angry and upset by this turn of events and he took to his bed. But he sickened so badly that an all-out effort was made to find them. The couple eventually heard the news of the father’s illness and returned voluntarily. Cearbhall, using the power and persuasion of the poet, and maybe even a little harp music, cured the man. Kavanagh forgave them both and allowed them to marry with his blessing.
Na Foinsí: Seosamh Ó hÉanaí, the great sean-nós troubadour from Carna, Conemara, was the source of this most unusual song. He had a huge collection of songs and stories – some say the oldest material around – and he himself is reported to have said that Seachrán Chearbhaill was the most ancient song in his whole repertoire.
There is some evidence in support of its antiquity: elements in its text connect the song with the literary form known as the crosántacht, a type of verse-making, comprising verse and prose, or singing and reciting. This kind of comic or satiric poetry was favoured by the court-jesters of medieval times. The words of “The Ramblings of Carrule” appear on the surface to be nonsensical but are in fact coded messages and metaphors.
3. Máire Ní Mhaoileoin
1..
Casadh orm sa choill í, mo chuid den tsaol ‘s mo stór,
Bhí gúna dearg teannta uirthi ‘gus búclaí buí den ór
Thug me liom fan fhraoch í is chaith mé léi an oíche
Nó gur fhág mé ag gol sa chúinniú í, plúr na mban óg.
2.
“A’ dtiocfaidh tú a’ bhaint aitinne liom, a phlúr na mban óg?”
“Thiocfainn is a cheangail leat, a ógánaigh óig,
Rachainn féin chun Aifrinn leat is chan le grá do m’anam sin
Ach a gheall ar a bheith ag amharc ort, a ógánaigh óig”.
3.
“A’ dtiocfaidh tú chun teampaill liom, a ógánaigh óig?”
“Cad é bheadh muid a dhéanamh ann, a phlúr na mbán óg?”
“Bheadh muid ag éisteacht le cantaireacht na ministéirí Gallda
Nó go gcríochnódh muid an cleamhnas ann, a phlúr na mban óg”.
4.
Tharraing mé amach mo scian bheag, mo chreach ‘s mo mhíle brón
Is lig mé fuil a croí léi go hiallach a bróg
Chaith mé domh mo chlóca, mo stocaí is mo bhróga
Is d’éalaigh mé sa cheobhrán ó Mháire Ní Mhaoileoin
5.
Tháinig sí ar cuairt chugam uair roimh an lá
Is leag sí béilín fuar orm is chuir sí orm lámh
“Éirigh suas, a bhuachaill! Is mithid duit ‘bheith ag gluaiseacht
Tá an tóir anois anuas ort fá bhás a’ chailín óig”.
6.
“Tiocfaidh an bás ar cuairt agat uair roimh an lá
Is cuirfidh sé cúntas crua ort fa chuairt a dtug tú ar mhná
Beidh tú ‘do luí i seomra uaigneach is braithlín gheal anuas ort
Is beidh piantaí géara ifrinn romhat, a ógánaigh óig!”
Mary Malone
An Scéal: A young man meets Mary in a wood. It’s by pre-arrangement. She’s beautifully adorned wearing a tight scarlet dress with buckles of gold on it. The man takes her to a heathery hill where they spend the night but in the morning she sits in tears, this “flower among young women”.
When they meet again he asks her would she come with him ” to pull the gorse ”, and she replies “Yes… and I’ll tie them with you”. She would even go to Mass with him – not for the good of her soul, since she was presumably a protestant, but just to be able to see him. But would he come with her to her church? “What would they do there ,” he asks, “but listen to the prattling of the vicars? Their relationship was surely doomed.
One misty night in despair he takes out his little dagger [“My woe and my thousand sorrows”]. Mary’s heart’s blood he spills, right down to the laces of her shoes. He throws off his cloak, his stockings and his boots, drops her body in the river and disappears into the mist.
Her ghost comes to him an hour before the dawn and lays a cold kiss upon him touching him gently with her hand. “Rise up, young man, and leave this place! The hunt for you is now abroad for the murder of a young girl” She tells him that Death will also come and visit him, an hour before the dawn, and that he’ll pass a cruel judgement on him for all the dealings he has had with women. “You’ll be lying in a room of loneliness and a white sheet wrapped round you. The pangs of hell are all before you, my young strapping lad!”
Na Foinsí: [I] an t-amhránaí Albert Fry.
[ii] an t-amhránaí John Ghráinne as Rann na Feirste.
[iii] focail: “Céad de Cheolta Uladh” [1915]
13. Méiltí Cheann Dubhrann
1.
‘S a Mhéiltí Cheann Dubhrann, sibh a thógfadh domh cian,
Tráthnóna sa tsamhradh nuair a luigheas an ghrian;
Is aoibhinn do chladaigh d’oíche ‘s de ló
‘S a Mhéiltí Cheann Dubhrann, céad slán libh go deo!
2.
Sna Méilt údaí a chaith mé seal aoibhinn gan gruaim,
Is mé ag buachailleacht eallaigh ar imeall a’ chuain
Is ann a bogadh mo chliabhán nuair a bhí mé beag óg,
‘S a Mhéiltí Cheann Dubhrann, céad slán libh go deo!
3.
Nár mhéanar a bheith ann muna mbínn ann ach lá
‘S mé ag amharc ar an fhaoilean ‘na luí ar a ‘tsnámh
Bheadh aoibhneas agus aiteas, bheadh spórt agus greann
‘S a Mhéiltí Cheann Dubhrann, céad slán libh go deo!
4.
‘S nach trua mise amárach ‘s mé gabháil eadar dhá dtír
Is sléibhte na coigrích ‘cur cumhaidh ar mo chroí
Béidh mo roscaí mar a’ shruthán ag síor-shileadh deor
‘S a Mhéiltí Cheann Dubhrann, céad slán libh go deo
5.
Tá néalta na maidine ar breacadh sa spéir
Tá na coilligh ag scairtigh le bánú an lae
Tá an soitheach ag fanacht in imeall a’ cheoigh
‘S a Mhéiltí Cheann Dubhrann, céad slán libh go deo!
Sand Dunes of Ranafast
An Scéal: The emigrant sits the night before his departure with tear-filled eyes, memories from the past flooding into his mind: the home-place, his childhood, old friends. The knowledge that he is probably never going to return again makes his departure all the more poignant.
The sand dunes are always a delight, always uplifting to the heart, especially on a summer’s evening when the setting sun paints a warm glow over the claddagh. This is where my childhood was spent, in blissful innocence, from the rocking of the cradle to the herding of cattle by the edge of the sea…but now it’s one hundred farewells forever.
If only I could relive just one of those days! watching the seagulls drifting on the tide …such indescribable joy it was and such fun,too, with all my childhood companions.
But tomorrow I’m leaving. The mountains of a foreign land will surely make me homesick. My eyes will be like the rippling brook, all flowing with tears…
The clouds of morning are dappling the sky; the rooster calls at the dawning of day; the barque awaits at the edge of the mist… Oh, Sand Dunes of Ranafast, a long farewell!
Na Foinsí: [I] an t-amhránaí Caitlín Bean Uí Dhomhnaill as Rann na Feirste.
[ii] focail: Seamus Ó Grianna [“Máire”] as Rann na Feirste; ceol: traidisiúnta.
[iii] téacs: ó Mháirtín Mac Grianna as Béal Feirste.
Translation of “Seachrán Chearbhaill”
The Ramblings of Carrule
1.
One fine day I went to gaze on the fine dream lady
Because she was the little maiden of the gentle brow
and the snowy-white hands;
Her cheeks like a blush of blossom against a white-washed
wall
And her narrow loving shoulders which could beckon the
fine, languid eye.
2.
Oh, she had that, says Peadar, if it’s true to say,
Oh, little amorous rose-shaped lips, narrow like the gentle
crest of a wave,
She had a penny on the slate and two other halfpennies up
on the board;
She had no opportunity to play that game from morning
till the dawning of day.
3.
Indeed, do ye hear me, girls of yonder street down there,
That I am fond of ye, for as long as I’m with the grace of
God;
Bring a message to her and tell her that siding with her I am
not
Because it’s that other woman who has me turtured with
love for such a long time;
That there is a full deep handful in every wave of her fine
flowing locks-
“Or are they all asleep” because you must get my story?
By this and by that…. The story was that three lads at the
beginning of spring went out in search of turf – themselves
and the two hounds they had. They went seeking
permission to use the wood from The Carbin and he gave it to
them. They carried off with them their pair of broad-backed,
sharp-edged axes. They forgot swiftness but had the
sluggishness with them. They broke the beams but let
the oars drift with the current.
4.
Indeed, the fearful arrows for me, or the pangs of death
As I am beleagered by the arrow going through my breast;
I would much prefer to be gazing on her
beautiful, smooth fine skin for a long spell
And coaxing her until morning, although it’s ironic for me to
say the likes of that.
By this and by that…. the story was that Cormac Mac Airt,
son of Conn, son of Tréanmhór, grandson of Baoiscne went
measuring the jumps at the speckled solid peaks that were
on the Hill of Éatán, son of Éata, son of Amhalghaidh, the place
where came the first ever ship and the first ever warrior to Ireland.
5.
Oh, the devil a quiet field there is that doesn’t have near it a
heathery daisy;
Oh, the devil a lake there is that doesn’t have a river flowing
down from it;
This ram is galloping and has no dwelling place to shelter
under.
It’s seldom that happiness comes without unhappiness
interspersed through it.
By this and by that …. The story was that a big ram
belonging to my grandmother went over to the church
to rip out desks. Unless they come before my grandmother’s
big ram gets there, he will cause total havoc in the big church.
(i)
If you go over there then to the little mannerly woman
Who has a crowd of untruthful children
Rub your palms sleekly on their foreheads –
Be careful that you would not fault any of their qualities-
And the waggero wero she’s the bright brown little branch.
(ii)
If you go over there then in the hollow of the small tuft
Be careful yourself of Siobhán’s waterfall-
Two sheep were drowned in it, a nannygoat and a kid,
O’Donnell’s horse, his hound and his mare,
And the waggero wero she’s the bright brown little branch.
Translated by Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh, 1999 ©
Special thanks for accommodation, food, wine, “taxies” and other services rendered :
Saskia & Steáfán, Heather & Alan, Vivienne & John, Jean-Pierre & Dianna, Aodh & Geraldine, Eileen, Seán & Tony, Bob, Jacynth, Cillian & Colm McEvoy, Brian Greene & friends, an fhoireann uilig i gCultúrlann Mhac Adam-Ó Fiaich agus Eilís Welby & Deirdre Davitt ó Bhord na Gaeilge; Paul Gallagher, Sliabh Liag Studios, C. Donegal.
I would also like to express my very personal gratitude to those I have worked with closely on this project. I have been singing this particular collection of songs for years but only began on the musical arrangements in August 1997. First and foremost, to Petra, for the lovely, peaceful atmosphere of Steinkamp Strasse, where the first musical ideas came to me that summer of 1997; to Andreas, Bernhard & Mirko for the first demos in their studios in Cologne; do Phádraig Ó Baoighill fa choinne “Pilleadh chun Oileáin” ; to Steáfán for his huge musical talent and technical skills, to say nothing of his encouragement and support; to Heather for being so patient and dedicated and utterly professional, both off and on stage; to Aodh for his total involvement and natural musical gifts; and, finally, to Mí-Ádh, and Dufán the cats, for harmonies I didn’t think possible!
für Petra … “ Leise flehen meine Lieder
durch die Nacht zu dir…”
Cover and disc painting “An Sealgaire” [The Hunter] by Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh from the series “Die schöne Müllerin”[The Beautiful Miller Maid], shown in Vienna in Oct/Nov. 1996 and reproduced here courtesy of Tom & Anne McCallig, Mountcharles, Co. Donegal.
Throughout the booklet there are also details from a large-scale work on a Gaeltacht theme by the same artist, entitled “In Oileán A’ Chlochair Bhig Chraobhaigh mar ‘thuiteas na néalta ‘un suain” [In the branchy island of the little stone fort as the clouds fall asleep]. It is reproduced here courtesy of Noni and Frank Murray, Blackrock, Co. Louth.
Tá muid faoi chomaoin ag Bord na Gaeilge as an urraíocht a tugadh dúinn don tionscnamh seo.
1. Líon muid na Gloiní We filled the glasses 4:35
[Pilleadh Chun Oileáin] [Returning to the Island]
2. Dúlamán na Binne Buí The Dúlamán [Seaweed]
with the Yellow Edging 4:51
3. Máire Ní Mhaoileoin Mary Malone 3:59
4. Seachrán Chearbhaill The Ramblings of Carrule 5:06
5. An Spealadóir The Mower 2:49
6. Geaftaí Bhaile Buí The Gates of the Yellow Town 4:43
7. Máire Bhéal Átha hAmhnais Mary from Ballyhaunis 2:56
.
8. Tráthnóna Beag Aréir Late Yesterday Evening 3:55
9. Sean-Bhríste Mór Big Tattered Trousers 2:35
10 . An Rábaire The Dashing Blade 3:20
11. Seoladh na nGamhna Driving the Calves 1:54
12. Grá Mo Chroí Thú, ‘Mhóirín You’re the Love of my Heart, Móirín 2:11
13. Méiltí Cheann Dubhrann Sand Dunes of Ranafast 3:51
.
Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh, lead vocals, vocal harmony, guitar
Fraoichín Nig Aonghusa, vocal harmonies and lead vocals.
Steáfán Ó hAnnagáin, bodhráns, uilleann pipes, flute, whistles,
various North African & Asian percussion.
Aodh Mac Ruairí, vocal harmonies, guitar
All tracks trad. arranged and adapted with additional music by Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh,
except: track 1, trad. adapted by Ned Curran with words by Pádraig Ó Baoighill and arranged with additional music by Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh ; track 2, written by Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh [MCPS, IMRO] © ; track 5 trad. arr. Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh with additional music by Daryl Hall & Holly Knight [ a medley published in part by Zomba Music Pub. Ltd., IQ Music Ltd. and BMG Music Pub. Ltd.]
