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My parents reared me tenderly I being their only son
Little, little did they think I would follow the fife and drum
They brought me up in the fear of god kept me from toil and woe
Which makes me sigh aye and oft times cry I wish the war was o’er
To finish my education they sent me to school awhile
And by their hard industry kept me in proper style
But with some liquor in my head I sailed for Glasgow green
I enlisted with John Barber all for to serve the queen
After seven long years had passed and gone I thought on my liberty
After seven long years had passed and gone I thought I would be free
But the answer the colonel gave to me it oft times make me sigh
That I was bound to serve the queen ”til all the wars were bye
Oh once I thought I ne’r would be in this dejected state
A poor forlorn solider exposed to hardships great
The bird that flutters on each branch with terror strikes my heart
Each star I see alarms me from war I must depart
I’ll take my second bounty perhaps it will be for life
And I’ll cross the briny ocean and the gun will be my wife
And I’ll fill up a flowing glass and toss it o’er and o’er
Fair maid don’t mourn for I’ll return when the cruel war is o’er
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Bíonn pota mór fataí tí Phadraich Con Rí x 3
‘S é pota na leath-chloch a chuireann siad síos
Curfá:
Óbhó mo leanna is is óbhó mo laoí
Óbhó mo leanna is cé déarfadh nach í x2
Bíonn ciseog mhór fhataí tí Pheadraic con Rí x 3
‘gus Baba sin a’inne is í ataigh dhá n-ithe.
Nuair a bhíonns mná mhuintir Uainín ag ól a gcuid tae x 3
Bíonn Baba sin a’inne lena méir ina béal.
Nuair a bhíonns mná mhuintir Uainín ag caitheamh cloth seál x 3
Bíonn Baba sin a’inne lena pluid ar a ceann.
Ó cuirfidh mé cóiste faoi Bhaba Con Rí x 3
Seanphota gliomach is róthaí chur faoi.
***
Curfá:
Bó, bó, bó na leath adhairce
Bó, bó, sí an tseana chaora adharcach
Bó, bó, bó na leath adhairce
Bó dhroimionn dhearg is ní fheadar cá bhfaighinn í
Thíos cois na toinne 'sea beathaíodh mo chaora
Ag Diarmuid Ó Díoláin ó Bharra na hAoine
Mac dearthár athair dom a chuir le faill í
Easpa tobac a bhí ar an gcladhaire.
B'fhearr liom ná scilling go bheicfinn mo chaora
'Teacht chun an dorais ar maidin nó istóiche
Thálfadh sí báinne dom, bheathódh sí uan dom
Chuirfeadh sí 'jacketeen' deas ar mo ghualainn.
Dá mbéinnse i rachmas, i ngradam is in oidhreacht
Thabharfainnse giní ar chupla sladhas di
D'iosfainn lán pice di, d'iosfainn lán oighin di
D'iosfainn stráice den tseana chaor adharcach
Chonacsa beirithe í, chonacsa a roinnt í
Chuireas-sa dúil intí ach blaise ní bhfaighinn di
ó nár dheas í, ó nár mheidhreach
ó nár dheas í an tseana chaor adharcach.
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A bhuachaillí, a bhuachaillí, ó molaim sibh go síoraí,
‘Sibh a thógfadh croí na gcailíní ‘s chuirfeadh gnaoi ar chruinniú daoine,
Nuair a smaoiním ar na scafairí is iad cruinn ar Ard an Aonaigh,
Ag caochadh ar na streabhógaí is ag cogarnaigh go síodúil,
Is líontar dúinn an crúiscín is bíodh sé lán.
Isteach go tigh an leannan libh, a chailíní na dílse,
Braon de shú na braiche chuireas mothú i bhur gcroí istigh,
Ólfaimid is ceolfaimid is beimid seal go siamsach,
Ó, beimid súgach meanmach, is spleoid ar bhuaireadh an tsaoil seo,
Is líontar dúinn an crúiscín is bíodh sé lán.
Á, b’ann a bhíodh an chuideachta ag teacht abhaile ón aonach,
Ag gealgháire is ag priollaireacht is a feitheamh lenár mian a fháil,
‘s fá dheireadh théadh gach scafaire ar ghreim sciatháin lena chaoinbhean,
Síos fá thaobh an ghleanna is iad ag portaireacht go croíúil,
Is líontar dúinn an crúiscín is bíodh sé lán.
Oíche Fhéile Eoin bhíodh tine againn thuas ar Leac an Cháite,
An píobaire ag seinm dúinn is sinn go haoibhinn sásta,
Is le bodhránacht na maidine théadh gach strugán lena ghrá geal,
Síos fá thaobh an ghleanna nó go gcríochnaíodh siad an t-airneál,
Is líontar dúinn an crúiscín is bíodh sé lán.
Ár mbeannacht leis na laetha sin, nach mór a d’athraigh an saol seo,
Níl grian an tsamhraidh ag taitneamh ann, níl gealach ann san oíche,
Níl ceol na n-éan le cluinstin ann, níl fidil ann, níl piob ann,
Níl ann ach blár fann folamh agus briseann sin mo chroí-se,
Is líontar dúinn an crúiscín is bíodh sé lán.
A bhuachaillí is a chailíní atá anois ar bheagán buartha,
Ó, déanaigí bhur ndícheall de, níl ann ach seal bhur gcuarta,
Nó tiocfaidh an lá go tapaidh is beidh sibh scartha ar an uaigneas,
Ag gol agus ag mairgnigh fán chinniúint a fuair bua oraibh,
Is líontar dúinn an crúiscín is bíodh sé lán.
An uair a bheas mé marbh, déanaigí m’fhaire i dtigh na beorach,
Ólaigí agus ceolaigí go gcluinfidh mé bhur nglórthaí,
Ansin tugaigí chun na cille mé agus déanaigí mo thórramh,
Agus baistigí le biotáille mo chrop agus mo chónair,
Is líontar dúinn an crúiscín is bíodh sé lán.
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Solider, Solider
03:57
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‘Soldier, soldier, will you marry me now?’
With the hey with the ho with the sound of your drum
‘No, fair maid, I couldn’t marry you
I have no jacket for to put on.’
[She ran to the shop as quick as could run
With the hey with the ho with the sound of a drum
She brought him the jacket of the very very best
‘And here my small man, put this on!’]
‘Soldier, soldier, will you marry me now?’
With the hey with the ho with the sound of your drum
‘No, fair maid, I couldn’t marry you
I have no shirt for to put on.’
She ran to the shop as quick as could run
With the hey with the ho and the sound of the drum
She brought him the shirt of the very very best
‘And here my small man, put this on!’
‘Soldier, soldier, will you marry me now?’
With the hey with the ho with the sound of your drum
‘No, fair maid, I canno marry you
I have no boots for to put on.’
She ran to the shop as quick as could run
With the hey with the ho with the sound of a drum
She brought him the boots of the very very best
‘And here my small man, put these on!’
‘Soldier, soldier, will you marry me now?’
With the hey with the ho with the sound of your drum
‘No, fair maid, I couldn’t marry you
I have no stockings for to put on.’
She ran to the shop as quick as could run
With the hey with the ho with the sound of a drum
She brought him the stockings of the very very best
‘And here my small man, put these on!’
‘Soldier, soldier, will you marry me now?’
With the hey with the ho and the sound of the drum
‘No, fair maid, I couldn’t marry you
I have my own wife at home!’
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An Baitsiléir
03:30
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Tá mé anois, faraor, 'mo sheanduine,
'Gus chaith mé saol gan dóigh,
Ar shiúl i ndiaidh na mban san oich',
'S ‘mo chodladh aris sa lá,
Bhínn a' suirí leo 's a' peataíocht,
Ag imirt is ag ól,
Ach ní bhfuair mé bean domh féin ariamh,
Mo chreach 's mo mhíle brón.
Curfá:
Níl bean agam 's níl clann agam,
'S níl fáras agam domh féin.
Níl leathphingín rua ar a' tsaol agam,
Ná gréim le cur in mo bhéal.
Ó, a Mhuire, nach mé a bhí amaideach,
Nár phós nuair a bhí mé óg,
Bheinn anois ' mo shuí go sona,
'Chois mo thineadh fhéin 'gabháil cheoil
Bhí mé aigeantach a' damhsa,
'S bhí mé croíúil a' gabháil cheoil,
Bhí mé ealaíonta a’ suirí,
‘S bhí mé súgach ' dtigh an óil,
Bhí mé suáilceach greannmhar tarraingteach,
'S ní mise liom a rá,
Dheamhan cailín dá gcaithfinn oíche léi,
Nach dtitfeadh liom i ngrá.
Nuair a bhí mé óg gan mhairg,
Bhí mé carthanach lách cóir,
'S níl áit ó neamh go hÁrainn
Nach mbínn oíche le mnaoí óig,
Níl bainis, dáil ná baisteadh
Ná coirm dá mbíodh san áit,
Nach gcaithfinn acu 'n oíche,
Agus páirt rómhor den lá.
Nuair a thigfeadh teas a' tsamhraidh,
'Gus na laetha fada breá,
Ó mhaidín go tráthnóna,
Fá na cladaí bhínn a' snámh,
Luínn siar go sómasach
Ar léana 'chois na trá,
Bhínn ag éisteacht leis na fuiseogaí,
'S níorbh fhada liom a' lá.
A bhuachaillí na gcarad
Tá mé 'tabhairt comhairle daoibh ó mo chroí,
Ná gabhaigí leis a' drabhlás,
Már rinne mise I dtús mo shaoil,
Ach pósaigí na cailiní,
'S déanaigí fáras beag daoibh féin,
'S na bígí fágtha fuar fann folamh arís,
Mar mise i ndeireadh 'n lae.
Ach anois tán aois á taispeáint,
Ar mo sheanchnámhna, monuar,
Tá mé cloíte crupthaí caite,
'S mé a' tarraingt ar an uaigh,
Bím a' meabhrú ar mo pheacaí,
'S a' déanamh aithreachais go cruaidh,
'S a Rí na glóire gile,
Dearc le trócaire orm anuas.
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Bádóirín Thír an Fhia
05:29
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Tá pian i mbéal mo chléibhe orm, chuirfeadh na céadta fear chun báis
Is tá mé cinnte dearfa nach bhfuil mo leigheas le fáil,
Nach trua anois mé ag scarúint leat ar theacht na huaire breá
Le linn don chuach ag seinm ceoil is gach duilliúr glas ag fás.
Is é mo léan nár éag mé go hóg i dtús mo shaoil,
Is nár cuireadh cónra chláir orm is mé chur go domhain i gcill,
Sul a bhfaca mé dhá bhréagadh é ag bean eile le mo thaobh,
Is mise bheith dhá éagmhais, a Dhia ghléigeal, nár bhocht an tslí.
Agus thug mé gean do tháilliúirín dár liom ba mhór a chóir
Ach mo bhádóir a fear ba mheasa liom nach bhfaca mé ariamh fós
Anois ó tá tú ag imeacht uaim is ní fhillfidh tú go deo
Tá súil ar Rí na nGlór agam go gcasfar liom é fós.
An bhfuil bean ar bith san áit seo a mbeadh mo chás aice le mí
Go mbeadh a croí dhá réabadh is ceart maith aice faoi
Mo bhádóirín a d'imigh uaim ar uair a dó nó a trí
Gan súil ar ais abhaile leis chúns a mhairfidh mé beo aríst.
Is comhairle dhíbhse a chailíní má thógann sibh uaim é
Ná téigí ag ól le haon fhear óg, is ná creidí’ glór a bhéal
Mar geallfaidh siad sibh a phosadh le comhrá a gcliste binn,
Agus éalóidh siad thar sáile uaibh ‘nós bhádóirín Thír an Fhia.
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Bua Chicago, Illinois
Bua is a quartet exploring the sounds of Chicago's early 20th Century Irish music scene. Coupling tunes with instrument pairings and songs in both the Irish and English languages with considerate arrangements, Bua lifts the life of this music out of the pages of Chief Francis O'Neill's seminal collection. The result is joyous music as wholly American as it is Irish. ... more
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