The Slave's Lament
Martin CarthyOriginale | Irish transcreation by Gabriel Rosenstock |
THE SLAVE'S LAMENT | CAOINEADH AN DAOIR |
It was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral, For the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O. Torn from that lovely shore, I must never see it more; And alas! I am weary, weary O. | Ó ba thall sa tSeineagáil, is gan saoirse agam le fáil Mé ruaigthe go Virginia,-ginia, Ó. An Afraic Thiar mo bhrón, críoch nach bhfeicfidh mé níos mó Uch monuar! Tá mé creachta, creachta Ó. |
All on that charming coast is no bitter snow and frost, Like the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O: Their streams for ever flow, and their flowers for ever blow, And alas! I am weary, weary O. | Is ar a cósta mín, sioc ná sneachta bán ní bhíonn, Gach abhainn ag rith de shíor, blátha gleoite ann ar m’fhíor! Uch monuar! Tá mé creachta, creachta Ó. |
The burden I must bear, while the cruel scourge I fear, In the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O; And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear, And alas! I am weary, weary O. | Gach ualach orm, gach tasc, is is eagal dom an lasc I gcríochaibh seo Virginia,-ginia, Ó Gan aon chara agam sa chúirt, is níl faic im’ shaol ach buairt Uch monuar! Tá mé creachta, creachta Ó. |