The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #29054   Message #4073670
Posted By: GUEST,Rory
30-Sep-20 - 02:59 AM
Thread Name: Lyr Req: Oiche Nollaig (Maire Mac an Tsaoi)
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Oiche Nollaig (Maire Mac an Tsaoi)
Joe Heaney's version

Dán Oíche Nollag (The Poem of Christmas Eve)

Chuadar siar is aniar na sráideannaí,
Ní bhfuaireadar aon dídean ann
Nó go dtáinigdar don stábla naofa
Dhá uairín roimh lá

Dhiúltaigh an teach ósda
Iad a thabhairt as an sneachta
Agus rugadh an leanbh naofa
idir bullán agus asail.

Aililiú-leá, is aililiú-leá
A bhó-bhó is a chó-chó
is aililiú-leá.

Tháinig na trí ríthe
Le bronntanaisí ag an leanbh
Dhiúltaigh tú an méid sin,
Ór buí agus aiteas

Dhiúltaigh tú uilig an méid sin
Ag sábháil gach peacach
Dhá dtiocfaidh, dhá ndeachaigh,
‘S dhá mbeidh againn feasta.

Aililiú-leá, is aililiú-leá
A bhó-bhó is a chó-chó
is aililiú-leá.

Lá dhá raibh an cúpla
Ag siúl lena chéile
Ó d’fhiafraigh an Mhaighdean Ghlórmhar
‘An mar seo a bhéas muid feasta?’

‘Díolfar mé Dé Céadaoin
Ar leath-choróin den airgead bán
Agus beidh mé Déardaoin
Do mo ruaigeadh ag mo námhaid

Tiocfar anuas orm
Le chúig mhíle buille
Agus an braon uasal is ort in uachtar,
Beidh sé síos le mo shála.’

Aililiú-leá, is aililiú-leá
A bhó-bhó is a chó-chó
is aililiú-leá.



Translation
They went back and forth in the streets,
But they got no shelter anywhere
Until they came to the Holy Stable
Two hours before daybreak.

The inn refused
To take them in out of the snow
And the holy infant was born
Between a bullock and asses.

Aililiú-leá, is aililiú-leá…

The three kings came,
With presents for the baby
You refused all of them,
Yellow gold and frankincense;

You refused all of them,
Saving every sinner
That will be, that has been,
And that we shall ever have.

Aililiú-leá, is aililiú-leá…

One day when the pair [Jesus and his Mother]
Were walking together
The Blessed Virgin asked him
‘Is this how we shall be from now on?’

‘I shall be sold on Wednesday
For a half-crown of silver;
And on Thursday
I shall be hunted by my enemies.

I will be struck
With five thousand blows
And the blood coming from my head
Shall stream down to my heels.’

Aililiú-leá, is aililiú-leá…