Lyr Req: An Bhean Caointe

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: An Bhean Caointe
From: AmyLove
Date: 22 Jan 16 - 12:24 AM

DK, wonderful! Thank you!

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: An Bhean Caointe
From: GUEST,leeneia
Date: 21 Jan 16 - 10:08 PM

"Teardrops fall from the morning stars"

Beautiful!

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: An Bhean Caointe
From: GUEST,DK
Date: 21 Jan 16 - 03:15 AM

This is from Pádraigín's book 'A Hidden Ulster,' Four Courts Press, 2003. Not proofread.




15 An Bhean Chaointe

A Neillí bhán dheas, go mbeannaí Dia d(h)uit!
Go mbeannaí 'n ghealach bhán 's an ghrian d(h)uit!
Go mbeannaí na haingil 'tá i bhflaitheas Dé d(h)uit!
Mar a bheannaíonn(s) do mháthair bhocht a chaill a ciall dhuit.

D'oil mé is d'fhulaing mise dáréag leanbh,
D'fhan mé 'na ndiaidh lena nigheadh is lena nglanadh,
D'fhan mé 'na ndiaidh lena gcur faoi leacacha,
Is a níon is míne, mo mhíle creathach.

Fuair mise cuireadh nuair a tháinig mé 'un mur sráide;
Fuair mise cuireadh, ach cuireadh gan ftiáilte é;
Fuair mise cuireadh chuig bascaod na bpreátaí;
Och, 'á mairfeadh mo níon chumainn, gheobhainn cuireadh is fáilte.

Chan cuireadh mná comónta a fuair mé ar mur sráide
Ach an cuireadh a fuair mise, cuiréadh gan fháilte é,
Cuireadh 'mo shuí mé ag bascaod na bpréataí,
Och, 'á mairfeadh mo níon pháirte, gheobhainn cuireadh 'na pharlúis.

A Neillí bhán dheas, go mbeannaí Dia d(h)uit!
Go mbeannaí an Rj' 's an tAthair Síoraí d(h)uit!
Go mbeannaí 'n ghrian 's an ghealach siar 's aniar d(h)uit!
Mar a bheannaíonn(s) do mháthair bhocht a chaill a ciall dhuit.

A chailín óg thall a rinn' an gáire,
Nár fhágaidh tú an saol seo go bhfaighe tú croí cráite,
Fá mise bheith 'g éagaoin fá mo níon na páirte,
Bheas ag dul uaim amárach i gcórthaí clárthaí.

Och, a bhean úd thall, 'riú is duit is fusa,
Beidh do mhacsa pósta le céile eile
Maighdean óg deas i mbun a leapa fs mo níon
Is mo théagar ag dul faoi leaca'.

Dá bhfuireo(cha)dh do níon i mbun a pósta,
Fuair sí céile gan dronn gan chomhartha,
Fuair sí togha agus rogha na dóighe
Agus an tír seo thíos uilig faoina comhairle.

Och, a chailín óig atá a' déanamh díom meithghéim gáirí,
Nár fhágaidh tú an saol seo go bhfaighe tú ábhar gola 'n áit gáire,
Fá mise ag éagaoin mo níon na páirte,
Bheas ar shiúi 'na gcreagacha maidin amárach.

Eirigh, 'Eoghain, agus muscail Róise,
'S a Mháire na gcumann, bí tusa leofa,
Dhéanfaidh Síle dheas an chomhra a chóiriú,
Agus cuirfl muinn Neillí bheag i ndeireadh a' tórraimh.

Ó, rachaidh mise amárach go cruinniú a phobail
Agus muscló' mé na mná greadta atá i bhfad 'na gcodladh;
Bhéarfaidh mé 'na bhaile na mná so-chorrtha
Agus cuirfidh mé ar shiúl na mná síochánach'.

Tá an ghrian 's a' ghealach ag triall faoi smúid;
Tá réaltaí na maidne ag sileadh na súl;
Tá na spéarthaí in airde fá chulaith chumhaidh
Is go dtillfidh tú aríst cha luíonn an drúcht.

The Keening Woman

Fair Nelly, may God bless you!
May the white moon and the sun bless you!
May the angels in God's heaven bless you!
As your poor mother who lost her reason for you, blesses you.

I bore and raised twelve children,
I stayed with them to wash and clean them,
I stayed with them to bury them beneath slabs,
Now fair daughter my thousand tremblings.

I was invited when I came in to your street;
I was invited but without a welcome;
I was invited to the potato basket;
If my beloved daughter lived, I'd be invited and made welcome.

It was not the invitation of ordinary women I got here
But the invitation I got was without a welcome.
I was sat down at the potato basket;
If my daughter lived, I would be invited to the parlour.

Oh fair Nelly, may God bless you!
May the King and the Eternal Father bless you!
May the sun and the moon, east and west bless you!
As your poor mother who lost her reason over you, blesses you.

Young girl over there who made the laughter
May you not leave this world till your heart is tormented,
At my lamenting my beloved daughter,
Who will be leaving me tomorrow in a wooden coffin.

Oh woman over there, it is easy for you,
Your son will be married to another spouse -
A nice young virgin about the bed
And my daughter and my darling going under slabs.

If your daughter had but stayedabout her marriage
She had found a spouse who was honest and upstanding;
She got the best and the choicest of ways,
And the country all about at her command.

Oh young girl who is making a mockery of me,
May you never leave this world till your laughter turns to tears,
At my lamenting my darling daughter,
Who will be walldng the rocks tomorrow morning.

Rise up, Eoghan, and wake up, Róise,
And, dear Máire, you go with them,
Fair Síle will prepare the coífin
And we will bury little Nelly after the wake.

I will go to the gathering of the people tomorrow
And I will awake the keening women who are long asleep;
I will bring home the excitable women
And I will send away the peaceful women.

The sun and the moon are moving in shadows;
Teardrops fall from the morning stars;
The skies above are in a cloak of sorrow
And until you return again the dew does not lie.

Subject: Lyr Req: An Bhean Caointe
From: AmyLove
Date: 20 Jan 16 - 11:19 PM

Does anyone have the lyrics to An Bhean Caointe? Video of Pádraigín Ni Uallacháin singing it here. Thanks so much.