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Príosún Cluain Meala

Anonymous
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OriginalVersione inglese ottocentesca del poeta iralndese Jeremiah Joseph Callanan.
PRÍOSÚN CLUAIN MEALATHE GAOL OF CLONMALA
Ó, bliain is lá amárach
Sea d'fhágas an baile
A' dul go hArd Pádraig,
'Cur lásaí le m' hata.
Bhí Buachaillí Bána ann
Is rás acu ar Eallaibh,
Is mé go dubhach uaigneach
I bpríosún Cluain Meala
How hard is my fortune
And vain my repining
The strong rope of fate
For this young neck is twining!
My strength is departed,
My cheeks sunk and sallow,
While I languish in chains
In the gaol of Clonmala.
Tá mo shrian is mo dhiallait
Ar iasacht le fada.
Mo chamán ar fiaradh
Faoi iarthar mo leapa,
Mo liatróid dá bualadh
Ag buachaillí an ghleanna -
Is go mbuailfinn poc báire
Chomh hard leis na fearaibh!
No boy of the village
Was ever yet milder;
I'd play with a child
And my sport would be wilder;
I'd dance without tiring,
From morning 'till even.
And the goal-ball I'd strike
To the light'ning of Heaven.
A Chiarraigh bígí ' guí liom,
Is bog binn liom bhur nglórtha,
Is beag a shíleas-sa choíche
Ná béarfainnse beo oraibh:
Go mbeidh ár dtrí cinn-ne
Ar trí spící mar sheó acu,
Faoi schneachta na hoíche,
Is gach síon eile á ngeobhaidh chugainn!
At my bed foot decaying
My hurl-bat is lying;
Through the boys of the village
My goal-ball is flying;
My horse 'mong the neighbours
Neglected may fallow,
While I pine in my chains
In the gaol of Clonmala.
Go hUíbh Ráthach má théann tú,
Beir scéala go dtí mo mhuintir
Go bhfuilim daor ar an bhfód seo
Is nach bhfuil beo agam
Ach go hAoine.
Next Sunday the patron
At home will be keeping
And the young active hurlers
The field will be sweeping;
Bailídh gléas tórraimh
Agus cónra bhreá im thimpeall -
Sin críoch ar Ó Dónaill
Is go deo bídh ag guí leis.
With the dance of fair maidens
The evening they'll hallow,
While this heart once so gay
Shall be cold in Clonmala.


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