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This is a mix of two traditional Irish songs; Bean Pháidín and An Poc Ar Buile, arranged by Michael McGlynn. It appears on Anúna’s 1993 album Anúna. Bean Pháidín is a sean-nós from the Connemara region in the west of Ireland. It’s about a jealous woman who longs to be Páidín’s wife. An Poc Ar Buile is a patriotic fighting song that uses a mad, ferocious goat as a symbol for the fighting and undominable spirit of the Irish.
Curfá 1: 'S é'n trua ghéar nach mise, nach mise 'S é'n trua ghéar nach mise bean Pháidín 'S é'n trua ghéar nach mise, nach mise 'S an bhean atá aige bheith caillte
Rachainn go Gallaí' go Gallaí' Is rachainn go Gallaí' le Pháidín Rachainn go Gallaí' go Gallaí' Is thiocfainn abhaile sa mbád leis
(Curfá 1)
Rachainn go haonach an Chlocháin Is siar go Béal Á' na Báighe Bhreathnóinn isteach tríd an bhfuinneog A' súil is go bhfeicfinn bean Pháidín
Go mbristear do chosa, do chosa Go mbristear do chosa 'bean Pháidín Go mbristear do chosa, do chosa Go mbristear do chosa 's do chnámha
Ar mo ghabáil dom siar Chun Droichead Uí Mhórdha Píce i m' dhóid is mé ag dul i meitheal Cé chasfaí orm i gcumar ceoidh Ach pocán crón is é ar buile
Curfá 2: Alliliú puilliliu Alliliú tá an poc ar buile Alliliú puilliliu Alliliú tá an poc ar buile
Ritheamar trasna trí ruilleogach Is ghluais an comhrac ar fud na muinge Is treascairt dá bhfuair sé sna turtóga Is chuas ina ainneoin ar a dhroim le fuinneamh
(Curfá 2)
Bhí garda mór i mBaile an Róistigh Is bhailigh fórsaí chun sinn a chlipeadh Bhuail sé rop dá adhairc sa tóin air Is dá bhríste nua do dhein sé giobail
Chorus 1: It's a great pity that I'm not, that I'm not It's a great pity that I'm not the wife of Páidín It's a great pity that I'm not, that I'm not And the woman that he has to be dead
I would go to Galway, to Galway And I would go to Galway with Páidín I would go to Galway, to Galway And I would return in the boat with him
(Chorus 1)
I would go to an Clochán And west by Béal Á' na Báighe I would look in through the windows I would spot Páidín's wife
May your legs be broken, be broken May your legs be broken, Páidín's wife May your legs be broken, be broken May your legs and your bones be broken
As I set out To old Dromore With pike in hand to join a meitheal Who should I meet but a tan puck goat And he roaring mad in ferocious mettle
Chorus 2: Alliliú puilliliu Alliliú tá an poc ar buile Alliliú puilliliu Alliliú tá an poc ar buile
He chased me over bush and weed And through the bog the run proceeded 'Til he caught his horns in a clump of gorse And on his back I jumped unheeded
(Chorus 2)
When the sergeant stood in Rochestown With a force of guards to apprehend us The goat, he tore his trousers down And made rags of his breeches and new suspenders
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