Mo Ghile Mear
Seán Clárach MacDomhnaill| Versione inglese cantabile, sempre di J.Mark Sugars (1997) | |
| MY GALLANT DARLING | MO GHILE MEAR (My Gallant Darling) |
| Once I was a gentle maiden, But now I am a spent, worn-out widow, My consort strongly plowing the waves Over the hills and far away. | Once I was fair as a morn of May, Now all I do is grieve and pray, And scan the surging ocean waves Since my gallant laddie went away. |
| He is my hero, my Gallant Darling, He is my Caesar, a Gallant Darling; I've found neither rest nor fortune Since my Gallant Darling went far away. | 'Sé mo laoch, mo Ghile Mear, 'Sé mo Chaesar, Ghile Mear, Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin Ó chuaigh in gcéin mo Ghile Mear. |
| Every day I am constantly enduring grief, Weeping nitterly and shedding tears, Because my lively lad has left me And no news is told of him- - - alas! | Pain and sorrow are all I know, My heart is sore, my tears a' flow Since o'er the seas we saw him go No news has come to ease our woe. |
| The cuckoo does not sing cheerfully at noon And the sound of hounds is not heard in nut-tree woods Nor summer morning in misty glen Since my lively boy went away from me. | In chestnut trees no birdsong sounds, The glens no more echo with coursing hounds, Winter's gloom lasts all year 'round, Since my laddie left for to seek his crown. |
| Noble, proud young horseman, Youth without gloom, of pleasant countenance, A swift-moving fist, nimble in a fight, Slaying the enemy and smiting the strong. | A proud and youthful chevalier, A highland lion of cheerful mien, A slashing blade, a flashing shield, Fighting foremost in the field. |
| Let a strain be played on musical harps, And let many quarts be filled on the table, With high spirit, without fault, without gloom, That my lion may receive long life and health. | Come, drain your cups as wild harps play Let every Celt praise his noble name As long as blood flows in your veins Raise a toast for his health, wish him length of days. |
| Gallant Darling for a while under sorrow, And Ireland completely under black cloacks, I have found neither rest nor fortune Since my Gallant Darling went far away. | Hero whose hopes have turned to smoke, Erin all wrapped in mourning cloak, I watch and wait, I dread my fate, Since my gallant laddie went away. |
