Документ взят из кэша поисковой машины. Адрес оригинального документа : http://crydee.sai.msu.ru/public/lyrics/cs-uwp/c/capercaillie/blood.is.strong Дата изменения: Fri Jul 8 14:00:00 1994 Дата индексирования: Mon Dec 24 07:32:08 2007 Кодировка: Поисковые слова: dra

@ALBUM: The Blood Is Strong: music from the
Grampian Television/Channel Four series
Artist: Capercaillie
Date: (c) 1988
Label: Polygram 314 518 142-4

@SONG: Aignish

An ciaradh m'fheasgair 's mo bheath' air claoidh
Mo rosg air dunadh 's a' bha\s gun chli.
Stiuir cu\rs' an lar leam gu Eilean ciatach
Gu Aignish sgiamhach far an d'a\raich mi.

An sin gun ca\irich sibh mi 'san fho\d
A measg mo cha\irdean 's mo shinnsrean co\ir,
Ri tonnan ba\rr-gheal a' bualadh tra\ghad
'S ri machair Aignish nan laoigh 's nam bo\.

@SONG: Aignish (translation)

When day is over and life is done
Mine eyes have closed and my strength has gone,
O westwards take me and quietly lay me
In Aignish graveyard beside the sea.

There please leave me by kith and kin
By parents kindly and all my friends,
By white waves pounding on beaches sounding
By Aignish graveyard beside the sea.

@SONG: Cumha Do Dh'uilleam Soisal

Och! a Thearlaich Og Stiubhart
'se do chuis rinn mo leireadh
Thug thu uam gach ni bh'agam
Ann an cogadh a'd aobhar
Cha chrodh is cha chairdean
Rinn mo chhradh ach mo cheile
O'n la dh'fhag thu m'i'm aonar
Gun sion 'sant-saoghal ach leine
Mo run geal og.

Gur a mis' thair mo sqaradh
'S ged a chanam cha bhreug e
'Sioma te bha na bantraich
Nach d'fhuair samhladh do'm cheile
Fear do cheille's do thuigse
cha robh furasd r'a fhaotuinn
'Scha do sheas air Cullodair
Fear do choltais bu treine
Mo run geal og.

@SONG: Chisholm Lament (translation)

O young Charles Stewart, your cause is the reason of my sorrow
You took from me everything I had, in the war on your behalf
I am not mourning cattle and sheep, but my partner
Since I am left alone with nothing but my shroud!

I am torn apart, and although I say it, it is no lie
My joy turned to sorrow, since you will not return from death
One of your wisdom and understanding was not easy to find
And not one stood at Culloden, of your appearance and bravery.

@SONG: O Mo Dhuthaich

O mo dhu\thaich 's tu th'air m'aire
Uibhist chu\mhraidh u\r nan gallan
Far a faighte na daoin' uaisle
Far 'm bu dual do Mhac 'ic Ailein.

Ti\r a mhurain, ti\r an eo\rna
Ti\r 's am pailt a h-uile seo\rsa
Far am bi na gillean o\ga
Gabhail o\ran 's 'g o\l an leanna.

Thig iad ugainn, carach, seo\lta
Gus ar mealladh far ar n-eo\lais
Molaidh iad dhuinn Manito\ba
Du\thaich fhuar gun ghual, gun mho\ine

@SONG: Oh My Country (translation)

Oh, my country you are on my mind
fresh, fragrant Uist of the saplings
Where the noble men are found
Who gave their hereditary allegiance to
'Mac ic Ailein'

Land of bent grass, land of barley
Land of abundance of every kind
Where the young lads will be
Singing songs and drinking beer.

They will come to us deceitful and cunning
In order to entice us from our homes
They will praise Manitoba to us
A cold country with no coal and no peat!

@SONG: Fear A'Bha\ta

Fhir a' bha\ta, na ho\ ro e\ile
Fhir a' bha\ta, na ho\ ro e\ile
Fhir a' bha\ta, na ho\ ro e\ile
Mo shoraidh sla\n leat 's gach a\it an te\id thu

'S tric mi sealltainn o'n chnoc as a\irde
Dh'fheuch am faic mi fear a' bha\ta
An tig thu 'n diugh no 'n tig thu ma\ireach
'S mur tig thu idir, gur truagh a ta\ mi.

Fhir a' bha\ta, na ho\ ro e\ile
Fhir a' bha\ta, na ho\ ro e\ile
Fhir a' bha\ta, na ho\ ro e\ile
Mo shoraidh sla\n leat 's gach ait an te\id thu

@SONG: Oh My Boatman (translation)

Oh boatman, na ho ro eile
Oh boatman, na ho ro eile
Oh boatman, na ho ro eile
My blessings with you wherever you go

Translation:
Often I look from the highest hill
Hoping to see the boatman
Will you come today, or will you come tomorrow?
And if you do not come at all, desolate will I be.

Rhyming variation:
I climb the mountain and scan the ocean
For thee, my boatman, with fond devotion
When shall I see thee? today? tommorow?
Oh! do not leave me in lonely sorrow

Oh my boatman, na ho ro eila
Oh my boatman, na ho ro eila
Oh my boatman, na ho ro eila
My blessings with you wherever you go

@SONG: Alasdair Mhic Colla

Alasdair Mhic oho
Cholla ghasda oho
As do laimh-s' gun oho
Earbhainn tapaidh trom eile

(refrain)
Chall eile bho chall a ho ro
Chall eile bho chall a ho ro
Chall eile huraibh i chall a ho ro
's haoi o ho trom eile.

As do laimh-s' gun oho
Earbhainn tapaidh o ho
Mharbhadh Tighearna o ho
Ach-nam-Breac leat trom eile

Dh'adhlacadh an o ho
Uir an loch e o ho
'S ged 's beag mi fhein o ho
Bhuail mi ploc air trom eile

'S ged 's beag mi fhein o ho
Bhuail mi ploc air o ho
Chuala m'in de o ho
Sgeul nach b'ait learn trom eile

Chuala m'in de o ho
Sgeul nach b'ait learn o ho
Glaschu a bhith a ho
Dol 'na lasair trom eile.

@SONG: Alasdair Mhic Colla (translation)

Alasdair, son of exile Cholla
In your hand I would entrust deeds.

Chant...

The lord of Ach-nam-breac would be killed
by you

Chant...

He would be buried at the edge of the loch

Chant...

And although I would get a blow, I heard
yesterday a sad story

Chant...

That Glasgow was going down.

@SONG: Dean Cadalan Samhach, A Chuilean Mo Ruin

Gur ann an America tha sinn an dra\sd',
Fo dhubhar no coille, nach teirig gu bra\th.
'N uair dh'fhalbhas an du\lachd 's a thionndaidh's
am bla\ths.
Bithidh cnothan, bidh u\bhlan 's bithidh an
siu\car a' fa\s

Thoir mo shoraidh le fa\ilte Chinn-t-Sa\ile nam no/,
Far 'n d'fhuair mi greis m'a\rach 's mi'm pha\isde beag o\g.
Bhiodh fleasgaichean donn air bonnaibh ri ceo\l,
Agus nionagan dualach 's an gruaidh mar an ro\s.

@SONG: Sleep Softly, My Darling Beloved (translation)

We are now in America
in the shade of the never-ending forest
When winter departs and warmth returns
nut, apples and sugar will grow.

Bear my farewell and greeting the Kintail and its cattle,
where I spent my time of upbringing when I was a young child
There dark haired lads would dance heel and toe to the music
and lassies with flowing tresses and cheeks like the rose.

@SONG: An Ataireachd Ard

An ataireachd bhuan, cluinn fuaim na h-ataireachd a\rd
Tha torann a chuain mar chualas leamsa 'nam phaisd,
Gun mhuthadh gun truas, a' sluaisreadh gainneamh na tra\gh's
An ataireachd bhuan, cluinn fuaim na h-ataireachd a\rd
Ach siubhlaidh mi uat, cha ghluais mi tuilleadh 'nad dha\il
Tha m'aois is mo shnuadh toirt luaidh air giorrad mo latha
'San a\m dhomh bhith suaint' am fuachd 's an cadal a' bha\is
Mo leabaidh dean suas ri fuaim na h-ataireachd a\ird.

@SONG: The High Swelling of the Sea (translation)

The everlasting swelling, hear the sound of the high swelling
The roar of the sea is as was heard by me as a child
Without change, without pity, sweeping up the sand of the shore
The everlasting swelling, listen to the sound of the swelling

But I'll depart from you, I'll not move any more to meet you
My age and my appearance give an account of the shortness of my days
At the time I am wrapped in the could slumber of death
Make up my bed by the sound of the sea.

@SONG: 'S Fhada Leam An Oidhche Gheamhraidh

Fa\ili, fa\ili, fa\ili o/ ro;
Fa\ili, fa\ili, fa\ili o/ ro;
Fa\ili, fa\ili, fa\ili o/ ro;
'S cian nan cian bho dh'gha\g mi Leo/dhas.

'S fhada learn an oidche gheamhraidh,
'S fhada 's fhada 's fhada learn i
'S nach fhaic mi ach pre/iridh lom ann,
'S cha chluinn tonn ri thgh'nn gu tra\igh ann

'N a\m do'n gheasgar a bhi ciaradh,
'S tric a bjios mo spiorad cianail;
Smaoineachadh g' eil cian nan cian uam,
Far 'm bu mhiann leam dhol a che/ilidh

@SONG: I Feel The Winter Night Long (translation)

Faili, faili, faili o ro;
Faili, faili, faili o ro;
Faili, faili, faili o ro;
It is a very long time since I left Lewis

I feel the winter night is long
long, long, long it is
I can see nothing but a bare prairie there
And I can't hear a wave coming to the shore.

In the evening time when it's getting dar
Often the spirit will be full of longing
Thinking that there is a long, long distance
From where I would like to be ceilidhing.

@SONG: Maighdeanan Na H-airidh

Thug mi'n oidhche raoir 's mi bruadar
Mar ri nionagan na buaile
B'fhinealt uasal min na gruagaich
Seinn nan duanag anns an a\iridh

Thug mi'n oidhche raoir 'san a\iridh
Thug mi'n oidhche raoir 'san a\iridh
Chaith mi'n oidhche cridheil caoimhneil
Mar ri maighdeanan na h-a\iridh.

@SONG: Shieling Maids (translation)

Last night I was dreaming
of the girls of the cattle fold
Fine, noble, gentle girls they were
Singing songs on the shieling

I spent last night on the shieling
I spent last night on the shieling
I passed the joyous, happy night
With the girls of the sheiling.

--
Craig Cockburn, pronounced "coburn" Email: craig@scot.demon.co.uk
Sgri\obh thugam 'sa Ga\idhlig ma 'se do thoil e.