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Lyrics: |
English Translation: |
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'S iomadh oidhche fhliuch is thioram |
Many's the night, wet or dry |
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Sìde nan seachd sian |
And in the fiercest storms |
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Gheibheadh Griogal dhomhsa creagan |
Gregor would find a nook for me |
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Ris an gabhainn dìon |
Where I could take shelter |
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Sèist: |
Chorus (after each verse): |
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Obhan, obhan, obhan iri |
Obhan, obhan, obhan iri |
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Obhan iri o |
Obhan iri o |
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Obhan, obhan, obhan iri |
Obhan, obhan, obhan iri |
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'S mòr mo mhulad, 's mòr |
Great is my sorrow, great |
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Dhìrich mi dhan t-seòmar mullaich |
I climbed to the topmost room |
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'S theirinn mi 'n taigh làir |
And descended to the lowest |
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'S cha d'fhuair mise Griogal cridhe |
I didn't find darling Gregor |
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Na shuidhe mun chlàr |
Sitting at the table |
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Eudail mhòir de shluagh an domhain |
Great treasure of the world's people |
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Dhòirt iad d'fuil an-dè |
They spilled your blood yesterday |
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'S chuir iad do cheann air stob daraich |
They put your head on an oaken stump |
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Tacan beag bho d' chrè |
A little way from your body |
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B'annsa bhith le Griogal cridhe |
I would rather be with my darling Gregor |
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Teàrnadh chruidh le gleann |
Herding cattle down the glen |
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Na le Baran mòr na Dalach |
Than with the great Laird of Dull |
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'S sìoda geal mu'm cheann |
And white silk about my head |
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Chan eil ùbhlan idir agam |
I have no apples |
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'S ùbhlan uile aig càch |
And everyone else has |
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Sann tha m'ubhal cùbhraidh, caineil |
My fragrant, sweet apple |
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'S cùl a chinn ri làr |
Lies with his head on the ground |
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Nuair bhios mnathan òg' a' bhaile |
When the young women of the village |
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Nochd nan cadal sèimh |
Are sleeping soundly tonight |
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Sann bhios mis' air bruaich do lice |
I will be at the edge of your grave |
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Bualadh mo dha làimh |
Beating my palms in sorrow |
