Príosún Cluain Meala
Anonymous
Original | Versione inglese ottocentesca del poeta iralndese Jeremiah Joseph Callanan. |
PRÍOSÚN CLUAIN MEALA | THE 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. |