Transcript

Ar an ngleanntán sléibhe seo d'imigh an léanscrios,
Níor chónaigh éan ann le corradh is bliain,
Breac ní léimfidh ar linn go héag ann,
Le (cumha) is le buaireamh[1] mar a d'athraigh an saol.

Na scológaí láidir go raibh san áit seo,
A mbíodh ór 'na (mhámaí) acu (i dtoighthe na tír'),
Bíonn siad féin is a bpáistí ag gol is ag gárthach,
"Ó, cé bhfaighidh muid áras ag teacht na hoích'?"

Na gabhair ghléigeala a bhíodh fán choill gach aon lá
Is na húthacha ag pléascadh orthu teacht na hoích'
'Gus na caoirigh maola a bhí fá bharr an tsléibhe,
Ghoid siad óna chéile iad ar an tsamhradh (daor).

Translation

In this little mountain glen the devastation took place,
No bird has lived there for more than a year,
No fish will ever again leap out of the water there,
Due to sorrow and vexation at how life changed.

The strong young men who dwelt in this place,
Who had plenty(?) of gold in the houses of the land (?),
They and their children cry and shout out,
"Oh, where will we find shelter when night comes?"

The white goats who used to be in the woods everyday
And their udders ready to burst when night fell
And the shorn sheep who were up at the top of the mountain,
They stole them from one another when the harsh(?) summer came.

Footnotes

Commentary

This song was composed by an uncle of the present informant, Seán Mag Uidhir. See Éamonn Ó Tuathail, Seanchas Ghleann Ghaibhle, supplement to Béaloideas 4:4 (1934), 35 and 49.