Before you edit: All changes are checked by a moderator before being published to the site and could take a few days.
This sean-nós song appears on the LP Seosamh Ó hÉanaí (Gael Linn, 1971). Seosamh Ó hÉanaí (Joe Éinniú; English, Joe Heaney) was an Irish traditional sean nós singer from County Galway, Ireland. He spent most of his adult life abroad, living in England, Scotland and New York city, in the course of which he recorded hundreds of songs. Ó hÉanaí was born Carna, a remote village in Connemara, County Galway, along the west coast of Ireland. Most of his repertoire (estimated to exceed 500 songs) was learned while growing up in Carna. In 1949, he went to London where he worked on building sites and became involved in the folk-music scene. He recorded for the Topic and Gael-linn labels.
In the video is a nice rendition by sean-nós singer Eilís Ní Chonghaile from the Ráth Cairn Gaeltacht. Translation thanks to Cartlann Sheosamh Ó hÉanaí.
Amárach Lá ‘le Pádraic, an chéad lá den tseisiún Is crua fuar an lá é ní cruaichte é ná an chinniúint. Tá na mionnaí ag tíocht anuas orm ‘s tá go leor leor dá gcruthú Séard dúirt ceannfort na ndaoine uaisle gurb é an róipín mo chruthú.
‘S a dhriotháirín dhílis tabhair abhaile mo hata, Mo stocaí ‘s mo bhróga ‘s mo chóitín donn daite. Aithris do mo mháithrín atá le ráithe ar a leaba Gurb é an róipín caol cnáibe atá in áit mo charabhata.
Tá mo chamán is mo liathróid ar cholbha mo leapa ‘S go mbuailfinn boc báire chomh hard leis an ngealach. Tá mo stailín dheas lúfar ar sliabh a’m sa mbaile Ach beidh m’ainm féin amáireach ar na páipéir i gCluain Meala.
Nach trua gan mé i m’iascaire ar thaobh Bhaile an tSléibhe Nó i m’eala dheas chlúfar ar bhántaí Loch Éirne Is mise Séamas Ó Murchadha, a fear a b’fhearr a bhí in Éirinn, An fear nach bhfeicfear ins an gcruinniú seo nó go dtaga Lá an tSléibhe.
Tomorrow is St Patrick’s Day, the first day of the session. It’s a hard, cold day colder than fate. The testimonies are against me, and a lot of them proven; and the commander of the authorities has said that I am to hang.
Dear brother, take home my hat, my stockings, my shoes, and my brown coloured coat. Tell my mother, who’s been in bed for a season, that I shall wear the narrow hempen rope in place of a necktie.
My hurley and ball are next to my bed; and I would hit a stroke as high as the moon. My swift little stallion is on the hill at home; but my name will be in the papers in Clonmel tomorrow.
Isn’t it a pity that I’m not a fisherman on the banks of Baile an tSléibhe, or in a lovely, feathery swan on Lough Erne. My name is James Murphy, the best man in Ireland the man who won’t be seen in this gathering until Judgement Day.
SongsInIrish.com is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com or amazon.co.uk.