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Dean cadalan sàmhach, a chuilean mo rùin, dean fuireach mar tha thu, 's tu 'n dràsd an àit ùr; bidh òigearan againn làn beartais is cliù, 's ma bhios tu 'nad airidh, 's leat feareigin dhiù. Gur h-ann an Americadh tha sinn an dràsd fo dhubhar na coille nach teirig gu bràth, nuair dh'fhalbhas an dùldach 's a thionndas am blàths bidh cnothan is ùbhlan is siùcar a' fàs. 'S ro bheag orm fhéin cuid de 'n t-sluagh a tha ann, le 'n còtaichean drogaid 's ad mhór air an ceann, le 'm briogaisean goirid 's iad sgoilte gu 'm buinn cha n-fhaicear an t-osan, 's e bhochdainn sin leam. Tha sinne 'nar n-Innseanach cinnteach gu leòir fo dhubhar nan craobh cha bhiodh aon againn beò - coin-alluidh is béistean ag éigheach 's gach fròig gum bheil sinn 'nar n-éiginn bho 'n thréig sinn Righ Deòrs. Mo shoraidh le fàilte Chinn-tàile nam bò far an d' fhuair mi greis àrach 's mi 'm phàisde beag òg; bhiodh fleasgaichean donna air am bonnaibh ri ceòl, is nionagan dualach, 's an gruaidh mar an ròs. An toiseach an fhoghair bu chridheil ar sunnd, gheibht' fiadh as an fhireach is bradan á grunnd, bhiodh luingeas an sgadain a' tighinn fo shiùil le 'n iasgairean tapaidh nach faicte fo mhùig. |
Sleep peacefully, my dear little one, live as you are, now in a new place; there'll be young men amongst us who win great riches and reknown and if you're a good girl one of them will be for you. It's in America that we are now, in the everlasting darkness of the woods when winter is gone and warmth returns the hazels and apples and maples will be growing. I have an excessive dislike for some of the people round here with their grotty coats and tall hats on their heads, there narrow trousers split down to the bottom, you can't see the socks, I reckon that's awful. Now we're like Indians sure enough in the dark of the trees not one of us would be alive - wolves and wild beasts howling round every corner we're in trouble since we forsook King George. My farewell and greetings to cattle-rich Kintail where I was brought up when I was a little young child; there were brown-haired young men on their feet to sing and beautiful long-haired girls with rosey cheeks. At the beginning of autumn our joy was hearty, deer were had from the hills and salmon from the depths, the herring boats would be coming under sail with the bold fishermen who were never seen to be unhappy. |
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Ri linn a cheud Tearlach thoisich iomadach Gaidheal ag iarraidh caithe-beatha úr ann an Ameireagadh. 'S e luchd-imrich mor Ghaidhealach a bh'ann am muinntir Carolina-bho-thuath. Thainig Sasunnaich do'n roinn sin cuideachd, ach s'iad Gaidheil a bh'ann am mòr-chuid. 'S ann ri linn an tr. Seóras thoisich na sassunaich a bhith lionmhor. Cha do ruig Gaidheal leas a bhith 'g iarraidh aobhar ur air son gun cuireadh e a mach le Sasunnach, ach faighteadh aobhar ur 'san am sin: bha na Sassunaich air son an ar-a-mach, b'ann air son an Righ bha na Gaidheil ann an Carolina. Lean daoine a tighinn bho Bhreatuinn, bho'n Albainn agus bho Shasuinn; thainig fear dhiubh, Iain Mac Murchaidh à Cinn-an-t-sáile, ann an 1774 agus an deidh beagan bliadhna rinn e an tálaidh so. |
Highlanders began to look in large numbers for a new life in America in the time of Charles the first. the populaton of North Carolina was a large Gaelic colony. Englishmen came to that territory too, but the majority were Gaels. It was about the time of George the third that the the English began to be numerous there. The gaels didn't need any new excuse to fall out with the English, but they found one anyway then: the English were for the revolution, and the N. Carolina Gaels were for the King. People had continued to come from Britain, both Scots and English; one of them, John MacRae of Kintail, came in 1774 and a few years later he wrote this lullaby. |
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Dean cadalan sàmhach, a chuilean mo rùin, Dean fuireach mar tha thu, 's tu 'n dràsd an àit' ùr; Tha òganaich againn làn beairteais 'us muirn, 'S ma bhios tu 'nad aire, 's leat feareiginn dhiùbh. Gur th' ann an America tha sinn an dràsd Fo dhubhar na coille nach teirig gu bràth, 'N uair dh'fhalbhas an dùdlach 's a thionndas am blàths Bidh cnothan is ùbhlan is siùcar a' fàs. Tha sinne mar n-Innseanaich cinnteach gu leòir, Fo dhubhar nan craobh cha bhi aon againn beò - Coin-alladh 'us bèistean ag éigheach 's gach fròig Tha sinne 'nar éiginn bho 'n thréig sinn Righ Deòrs. Gur beag orm fhéin cuid de na treud a tha ann, Le 'n còtaichean sgàrlait 's ad mhór air an ceann, Le 'm briogaisean fada dol seachad an glìn, Cha 'n fhaic sinn an t-osan, 's e bochdainn sin leinn. Mo shoraidh an dràsd gu Ceann-t-Sàile nam bò Far 'n d' fhuair mi òg m'àrach 's 'nam phàisde beag òg Bhiodh òigearean sgoinneal air bhonnaibh ri ceòl, 'Us nighneagan dualach 's an gruaidh mar an ròs. 'N uair am foghar a stigh oirnn bhiodh sunnd, Bheirt' fiadh as an fhireach 'us bradan as grunnd; Na soithichean-sgadain a' tighinn dhachaidh fo shiùil Le 'n òigearan sgairteil nach taiseadh ri smùid. Séist |
Sleep soundly, my darling, the love of my heart, Stay sweet as you're sleeping at home in the wild; The laddies who live here are tender and true And if you'll be careful there'll be one for you. It is in America that we are now, In shadow of forests that stretch without end, Whenever cold winter has turned into spring The nuts and the apples and sugar will grow We're wild as the Indians surely enough, In woods that are gloomy there's none that will live, With wolves and the wild beasts that howl from their dens, We've been in great danger since leaving King George. I care very little for those who are here With coats that are scarlet and wearing high hats, With breeches extending below ev'ry knee, We can't see the tartan -- that's bad luck to us! My greetings go out to Kintail of the cows, Where I lived so happily when I was young, Our heroes so stalwart then danced to the pipes With curly-haired maidens with cheeks like the rose. When autumn arrived there, they all would be gay, A deer from the forest, and salmon from pools, The herring boats heading home under full sail, With young and strong seamen the spray does not daunt. |
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Séist Dean cadalan sàmhach, a chuilean mo rùin, Dean fuireach mar a tha thu, 's tu 'n drásd an áit' úr; Bidh òigearan againn làn beartais is cliù, 'S ma bhios tu 'nad airidh, 's leat feareigin dhiù. Gur h-ann an Ameirica tha sinn an dràsd Fo dhubhar na coille nach teirig gu bràth, 'N uair dh'fhalbhas an dùlachd 's a thionndainneas blàths Bidh cnothan, bidh ùbhlan, bidh siùcar a' fàs. 'S ro bheag orm fhéin cuid na duine seo th' ann, Le 'n còtaichean drògaid, ad mhór air an ceann, Le 'm briogseanan goirid 's iad sgoilte gu 'm bonn, Cha 'n fhaicear an t-osan, 's e bhochdainn a th' ann. Tha sinne 'nar n-Innseanaich cinnteach gu leòr, Fo dhubhar nan craobh cha bhi h-aon againn beò Madaidh-allaidh is bèistean ag éigheach 's gach fròg, Gu bheil sinne 'nar n-éiginn bho 'n thréig sinn Righ Deòrs. Thoir mo shoraidh le fàilte Chinn-t-Sàile nam bò Far an d' fhuair mi greis àrach 's mi 'm phàisde beag òg; Bhiodh fleasganan donna air am bonnaibh ri ceòl, Agus nìonagan dualach, 's an gruaidh mar an ròs. |
Chorus Sleep quietly my loved little one, Stay as you are, you are now in the new place; Young men will be with us abounding in riches and fame, And if you are worthy, you will have one of them. In America, we are now, Under the shade of the endless forest; When the winter goes, and warmth takes its place, Nuts, apples and sugar will grow. Little do I like these people that are here, With their drugget coats and big hats on their heads, With their short trousers split to the waist, The hose is not to be seen, and it is a sorry plight that we are in We are Indians to be sure, Under the shade of the trees, none of us will survive; Wolves and other beasts cry out in every corner, We have been in dire straits since we forsook King George Give my greetings with welcome to Kintail of the cattle Where I was broght up when I was a little child; Brown-haired youths would dance to music, And girls with braided hair and cheeks like the rose. |
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