An Chailín Álainn
People have been asking me what that song is that Máirtín de Cógáin of Cork has been singing around Kansas City with his brand spanking new guitar.
A couple of weeks back Máirtín tripped out to Kansas City’s Big Dudes and came away with a Breedlove guitar and a case. Two cases in fact. Hard shell and soft shell.
And since then, in between his ABCs and Paddy working on the railway, and if you’re lucky - as I was last week - Raglan Road - Máirtín has been putting down that bodhrán and playing a song on said guitar. An Chailín Álainn, and it’s - as an Irish supermarket might say - “getting better every day”.
You can listen to Máirtín sing An Chailín Álainn if you purchase the first The Fuchsia Band CD, the eponymous The Fuchsia Band. And not ten minutes too late will you be.
See Also:
• Profile of The Fuchsia Band
• The Fuchsia Band Man
• Last Night’s Fun: Máirtín de Cógáin plays with Eddie Delahunt
Eolaí gan Fhéile:
Anyone ever wonder what’s being said?
Wonder no more.
I think the line I like best is…
“song of the thrush in the fog’s bright dew”.
I have seen the fog’s bright dew.
It’s a sweet song even if no thrushes are
around.
WITHOUT FADAS ( ACCENT MARKS )…
An Chailin Alainn
Ta cailin alainn, a dtug me gra dhi
Si ’s deis’ is aille, na blath ’s na ros
Gan i ar laimh liom, is cloite ata me
O a chailin alainn, ’s tu fath mo bhroin
Curfa:
A chailin alainn, a dtug me gra duit
O bi ar laimh liom, mo mhile stor
O abair liomsa, gur tu mo ghra gheal
Beidh orm athas, in ait an bhroin
Nuair a eirim, amach go huaigneach
Siud e an uair, is mo mo bhron
O bim ag smaointeamh, ar an chailin uasal
Ata i bhfad uaimse, mo chreach ’s mo bhron
Da dtiocfa liomsa, a chailin alainn
Arist go brach ni, bheadh orm bron
Sheinnfinn ceol duit, mar cheol na clairsi
No ceol binn smoilin, ’s an drucht gheal cheo
ENGLISH TRANSLATION…
The Lovely Girl
There’s a beautiful girl whom I gave my love
She is kinder and lovelier than a flower or rose
Without her hand in mine, I’m weak
O beautiful girl, you’re the cause of my grief
Chorus:
O beautiful girl whom I gave my love
Give me your hand, my dearest one
Tell me that you’re my bright love
And there will be happiness upon me instead of sorrow
When I rise, lonely
That is the time my sorrow is greatest
I think of the precious girl
Who is far from me, my ruin and my grief
If you came to me, beautiful girl
Ever again, I wouldn’t be sad
I would play music for you like music of the harp
Or the sweet song of the thrush in the fog’s bright dew