Celtic Lyrics Corner > Artists & Groups > Capercaillie > Beautiful Wasteland > Am Mur Gorm

   
Beautiful Wasteland Am Mur Gorm
   
Credits: Karen Matheson & Donald Shaw; lyrics by Sorley MacLean
   
Appears On: Beautiful Wasteland
   
Language: Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic) & English
   

Lyrics: English Translation:
   
Mur b'e thusa bhiodh an Cuilithionn But for you the Cuillin would be
'Na mhur eagarra gorm An exact and serrated blue rampart
Ag crioslachadh le bhalla-criche Girdling with its march-wall
Na tha 'nam chridhe borb All that is in my barbarous heart
   
Mur b'e thusa bhiodh a'ghaineamh But for you the sand
Tha'n Talasgar dumhail geal That is in Talisker, compact and white
'Na clar biothbuan do mo dhuilean Would be a measureless plain to my expectations
Air nach tilleadh an run-ghath And on it the spear desire would not turn back
   
'S mur b'e thusa bhiodh na cuantan But for you the oceans
'Nan luasgan is 'nan tamh In their unrest and their repose
A'togail cair mo bhuadhan Would raise the wave crest of my mind
'Ga cur air suaimhneas ard And settle it on a high serenity
   
Don't tell me it's easier alone
Don't tell me your world don't need a home
Savor the first drops of rain
Falling on your soul's dusty plains
 
   
'S bhiodh am monadh donn riabhach And the brown brindled moorland
Agus mo chiall co-shint And my reason would co-extend
'Ach chuir thusa orra riaghladh But you imposed on them an edict
Os cionn mo phianaidh fhin Above my own pain
   
Agus air creachainn chein fhasmhoir And on a distant luxuriant summit
Chinn blathmhor Craobh nan Teud There blossomed the Tree of Strings
'Na meangach duillich t'aodann Among its leafy branches your face
Mo chiall is aogas reil My reason and the likeness of a star
   
Don't tell me it's easier alone
Don't tell me your world don't need a home
Savor the first drops of rain
Falling on your soul's dusty plains
 
   
Mur b'e thusa bhiodh an Cuilithionn But for you the Cuillin would be
'Na mhur eagarra gorm An exact and serrated blue rampart
Ag crioslachadh le bhalla-criche Girdling with its march-wall
Na tha 'nam chridhe borb All that is in my barbarous heart