Ceacht 4: Foghlaim Gaeilge le 'Claisceadal cois Baile'
- Colmcille Press
- 4 days ago
- 2 min read
Fáth Mo Bhuartha (The Cause of My Anguish)
Ag ceiliúradh foghlama na Gaeilge trí sheanamhráin, curtha in eagar ag Risteard Mac Gabhann
Is minice anois a chluintear an t-amhrán álainn seo mar cheol uirlise ná mar
amhrán, agus is trua sin nó tá na véarsaí iontach álainn chomh maith. Tá patrún
saibhir ríme go cothrománach ar gach líne agus go hingearach trí gach véarsa,
a chuireann diminsean suntasach eile le ceolmhaireacht an amhráin. Tá an saol
crua atá i gceist sa mheafar ‘turas na Cruaiche’ ag deireadh an chéad véarsa,
ag tagairt don oilithreacht cháiliúil (agus anróiteach) go Cruach Phádraig i
gContae Mhaigh Eo. Is é an file as Maigh Eo Riocard Bairéad (1739 – 1810)
is mó a luaitear leis an amhrán breá seo.
This beautiful song is probably better known now as an instrumental piece at
traditional music seisiúin, which is a pity, since the words are also very attractive.
There is a rich pattern of vowel rhymes arranged horizontally and vertically
throughout each verse, which adds another dimension to the musicality of the
composition. The hard life implied in the ‘Cruach journey’ metaphor at the end of the first
verse is probably a reference to the famous penitential pilgrimage mountain
Cruach Phádraig in County Mayo. The song is attributed in some sources to
the Mayo poet Riocard Bairéad (1739 - 1810).
Téacs an amhráin agus an t-aistriúchán/Text of the song and translation
Is é fáth mo bhuartha nach bhfaighim cead cuarta,
The cause of my anguish is that I’m not permitted to visit,
Sa ghleanntán uaigneach mar a mbíonn mo ghrá,
The lonely glen where dwells my love,
Bíonn mil ar luachair ann, im a’s uachtar,
There’s honey on rushes there, butter and cream,
A’s i dtús an fhuachta bíonn na crainn faoi bhláth,
And at the start of the cold (season) the trees are in bloom,
Níl gaoth aduaidh ann, níl sneachta crua ann,
There’s no north wind there, there’s no hard snow there,
Tá caladh a’s cuan ann ag long a’s ag bád,
There’s harbour and shelter there for ship and boat,
A’s tá tuilleadh bua ann, níl turas na Cruaiche ann
And there’s more benefit there, there’s no hard life there,
Don té a dhéanfadh suas lena mhuirnín bán.
For the man who’d make up to his fair love.
Is é dúirt mo stór liom, ó bhí tú óg deas
My love said to me, since you were young and pretty,
Go ndéanfá foghlaim ar éalú liom,
That you would contrive to elope with me,
A’s nach mbíonn tráthnóna nó maidin fhómhair,
For there isn’t an evening or an autumn morning,
Nach tú an réalt eolais a bhíonn ag dul romhainn,
That you’re not my guiding star going before us,
Ag siúl na móinte a’s na gcoillte cnómhar’,
Walking the heathlands and the nut-filled woods,
Ní bhíonn orm brón ná duibheagán croí,
I’m never in sorrow or heavy of heart,
Ach mé bheith pósta le mo mhíle stóirín,
If I were just married to my thousand treasures,
A’s mo lámh go bródúil ar a brollach mín.
And my hand proudly on her gentle breast.
Leagan eile iontach ó Eleanor Shanley anseo:
