Cumha Mhic Criomain
Donald Ban MacCrimmon (Dòmnhull Bàn MacCruimein)Original | La versione scozzese di Isla St Clair, da Mainly Norfolk: English... |
CUMHA MHIC CRIOMAIN Dh' aidh ceò nan stùc mu aodann Chuilinn, Is sheinn a' bhean-shìth a torman mulaid, Gorm shùilean ciùin san Dùn a' sileadh, Bo'n thriall thu bhuainn 's nach till thu tuille. Cha till, cha till, cha till Mac-Cruimein An cogadh no sìth cha till e tuille; Le airgiod no ni cha till Mac-Cruimein, Cha till e gu bràth gu là na cruinne. Tha osag nam beann gu fann ag imeachd, Gach sruthan ’s gach allt gu mall le bruthaich; Tha ealtainn nan speur feadh ghèugan dubhach, A’ caoidh gu ’n d’ fhalbh ’s nach till thu tuille. Cha till, cha till, cha till Mac-Cruimein An cogadh no sìth cha till e tuille; Le airgiod no ni cha till Mac-Cruimein, Cha till e gu bràth gu là na cruinne. Tha'n fhairge fa-dhèoigh làn bròin is mulaid Tha'm bàta fo sheòl, ach dhiùlt i siubhal Tha gàirich nan tonn le fuaim neo-shubhach Ag ràbh gun d'fhalbh 'snach till thu tuille. Cha till, cha till, cha till Mac-Cruimein An cogadh no sìth cha till e tuille; Le airgiod no ni cha till Mac-Cruimein, Cha till e gu bràth gu là na cruinne. Cha chluinnear do cheòl san Dùn mu fheasgar 'Smac-talla nam mùr le muirn ga fhreagairt Gach fleasgach us òigh, gun cheòl gun bheadrach O'n thriall thu bhuainn, 's nach till thu tuille. Cha till, cha till, cha till Mac-Cruimein An cogadh no sìth cha till e tuille; Le airgiod no ni cha till Mac-Cruimein, Cha till e gu bràth gu là na cruinne. | MACCRIMMON'S LAMENT A misty road unfolds round Coolin A dirge of woe the banshee is croonin (1) But my blue e'en they wail and seething (2) Since thou art gone and no returning. The breeze o'er the ben is gently stealing (3) As doon their braes the burnlets come creeping (4) (5) (6) Birds in high trees they wail and seething Since thou art gone and no restoring. O'er the doon at e'en your piping is silent Nor echoing hills in like replying My lover's fond kiss is fondly quieted Since thou art gone, for I, for ever. Cha till, cha till, cha till MacCrimmon (7) In peace nor in war return no never No treasure nor road shall bring MacCrimmon Till dawns the glad day that joins us ever. |
(2) e'en: eyes;
(3) ben: hill;
(4) doon: down;
(5) braes: slopes;
(6) burnlets: small streams
(7) "Non tornerà, non tornerà, MacCrimmon non tornerà"