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The Coventry Carol (Arr. Olson)

de Traditional

Tóigfidh mé mo sheolta go Dúiche Sheoigheach ar maidin
Ar cuairt chuig mo mhíle stóirín is go deo deo ní chasfad
Go dtaga bláth buí ar an eorna is go dtosaí an Fómhar ag gabháil chun finne
Is nach breá deas an rud í an óige is i ndiaidh mo stóirín atá mise.

Mo dhílleachtín cráite 'sea fágadh mé gan athair
'S dá mbeadh mo chliú i ndán dom cér chás dhom a bheith folamh
Níl aon fhear in Éirinn a dhéanfadh éagóir ar mo shamhail
Nár dheacair dhó a leas a dhéanamh ná ' gabháil ar aon chor go na flaithis.

Thuas i gciumhais a' tsléibhe atá an péarla a bhíos mo mhealladh
Buachaillín na gruaige báine a bhfuil fáinne a' gháire faoina hata
Agus gheall sé dhom go bpógfadh sé mo rós-bhéilín meala
Ach ní léir dhom na bóithrí ag na deora do mo dhalladh.

Tá 'fhios ag na daoine gur iomaí smaoineamh crua deacrach
Ag imeacht thrí m'intinn gach oíche ar mo leaba
Ach más fortún é atá i ndán dom is nach bhfuil fáil a'm a dhul thairis
Bí romham ag na crosbhóithrí is beidh muid pósta roimh an mhaidin.

Tá féar fada agus fásach i ngleanntaí álainn i bhfad ó bhaile
A mbíonn úllaí agus áirní ann fásta ar bharra crannna
Is cuma liomsa céard déarfas aon neach ní hé mo chéad searc a déarfas tada
Más í do mháithrín atá 'do dhiaidh orm, fuil a croí amuigh ar leac an teallaigh.

-oOo-

I'll set off for Dúiche Sheoigheach in the morning,
to visit my darling and never will I return;
until the barley turns to marigold and the Autumn begins to brighten.
Youth is a fine thing, but it's after my love I am.

I was left a tormented orphan without a father
and if my honour were intact I'd not mind being poor;
any man in Ireland who'd cause harm to one like me,
would find it difficult to do well or to gain entrance to heaven.

Up at the edge of the mountain lives the pearl who charms me,
the boy with fair hair and a great smile below his hat.
He promised he'd kiss my sweet mouth,
but I cannot see the road, the tears are blinding me.

People know that it's many a difficult and bitter thought
enters my mind each night on my bed,
but if this is my fate and there is no escape from it,
meet me at the crossroads and we'll be wedded before morning.

There is long grass and rich pasture in lovely faraway glens
where apples and sloes grow on treetops;
I don't care what anyone says, my first love won't fault me.
If it's your mother who disapproves of me, may her blood flow on the hearthstone.

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