The book Arran; - Cook Clan

GAELIC SONGS OF ARRAN 327
Tha raise an drasd ann an diithaich nan Gall,
'S cha mh6r nach do sgoilt iad le 'n obair mo cheann,
Tha gach aon diubh clio liighmhor le 6rd anns gach laimh,
'S gur cosmhuil a' chilis ri Waterloo anns an Fhraing.
Ach bi'dh 'nihuinntir a dh'fhogair mi 'n aghaidh mo mhiann
Gun chaora, gun ghobhar, gun bh(5 air an t-sliabh,
Nuair bhios mis' anns an Todhar * gu foghainteach, flal,
Ag 61 as mo chopan, 's a' gabhail mo bhiadh.
Translation
BY JAMES CRAIG, KILPATRICK, ARRAN
Song composed by John Currie, Tormore, on his beings expelled from An'an
for poaching.
In the calm summer mom ere the sun with its rays
Would awaken in beauty our valleys and braes,
With my take in my skiff I so gaily would come
To the shade of the castle where nestled my home.
On reaching my refuge my heart would rebound
With joy to the chorus which echoed around,
To the merle's thrilUng love-notes the lark would reply
From the lift o'er the hilltop far hid from the eye.
Oh, fair were the braes by the cabin I loved,
^^^lere early I played, where in manhood I roved,
AATiere often I crouched with my gmi on my knee,
Awaiting the mallard that seldom got free.
And green was the heather which covered yon hill
Where cows in the summer would wander at wll,
When the maids brought their pails reaming full from the fold,
Our drink was then sweeter than nectar of old.
Dear Beallach nam Meann how my heartstrings were torn,
^Vhen banished the spot where my darlings were born.
'Tis my fate in the lowlands to nourish my wrongs.
Since fortune once placed me too near to the Long-s.-
' Tor-mdr called also in Arran Aji Todhar. '' The
informers.