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Fhair a Bhata

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Traditionnel - Ecosse

Jane Finlayson is believed to have written this song in the late 18th century for her suitor Donald MacRae, who was a fisherman. They were later married. Melody traditional

 

Version gaélique

Fhir a bhata no ho ro eile (ter)
Ciad soiridh slan dhut s gach aite an deid thu

S tric mi diradh a chnuic as aioda
Fiach a feic mi fear a bhata
An tig thu n diu no n tic thu mairach
S mar tig thu itir buragh a tha mi

Tha mo chridhe-asa brist bruite
S tric na deoir a ruith le m shuilean
An tig thu nochd no m bi mo dhuil riut
No n duin mi n dorus le osunn thursach

S tric mi fioneachd do luchd nam baotichan
Fac iad thu no bheil thu sabhailt
Se bhios gach aon diu ream ag ratha
Gur gorach mise mu thug mi gradh dhut

Ged a thuirt iad gu robh thu aotrom
Cha du lughdaich sid mo ghaol ort
Gur tu m aisling ann s an oidhche
S gle mhoch sa mhaduinn bidh mi ga'd fhoighneachd

Thug mi gaol dhut s cha n fhaod mi aichadh
Cha ghaol bliadha s cha ghaol raith e
Ach gaol a thug mi s mi og am phaisda
Nach treig a chaoidh gus an cheidh am bas mi

Bidh mo chairdean gu tric ag iaraidh orm
T-aogas a chuir air diachain
Ach tha chomhairle sin dhaibh cho diamhain
Ri tilladh mara s i tort a lionaidh

Chan n eil baille beag sa m bi thu
Nach doir thu greis ann a cuir a sgis dhiot
Bhead thu lamh air do leabhar riomhach
A ghabhail dhuanag s a bhuaradh nighnag

Gheall mo leannan dhomh gun de n t-sioda
Gheall e sid agus breacan riomhach
Fain oir ann sa feicinn m iamhaigh
S gur eagal leam gu n d rinn e dhiochain

Tha mo chrisan air dol an airdad
Cha n ann bho fhidhlair no bho chlarsair
Ach bho stiuradair a bhata
S mar tig thu an cluich gur bochd a tha mi

Bidh mi tuillidh gu tursach deirach
Mar eala bhan bhidh an deigh a reupadh
Guilag bais aic air lochan feura
S cach uile an deis a treigsinn

 

Version anglaise

I climb the mountain and scan the ocean
For thee, my boatman, with fond devotion
When shall I see thee? today? tomorrow?
Oh! do not leave me in lonely sorrow.

Fhair a bhata, na horo eile (ter)
O fare thee well, love, where'er ye be 

 

2. Broken-hearted, I droop and languish,
And frequent tears show mg bosom's anguish;
Shall I expect thee tonight to cheer me?
Or close the door, sighing, sad and weary.

3. From passing boatmen I'd fain discover
If they have heard of or seen my lover;
They never tell me - I'm only chided,
And told my heart has been sore misguided.

4. My lover promised to bring his lady
A silken gown and a tartan plaidie,
A ring of gold which would show his semblance
But, ah! I fear me for his remembrance.

5. That thou'rt a rover my friends have told me,
But not the less to my heart I hold thee;
And every night in my dream I see thee,
And still at dawn will the visions flee me.

6. I may not hide it - my heart's devotion
Is not a season's brief emotion;
Thy love in childhood began to seize me
And ne'er shall fade until death release me.

7. My friends oft tell me that I must sever
All thoughts of thee from my heart forever;
Their words are idle - my passions, swelling,
Untamed as ocean, can brook no quelling.

8. My heart is weary with ceaseless wailing,
Like wounded swan when her strength is failing
Her notes of anguish the lake awaken,
By all her comrades at last forsaken.

9. I climb the mountain and scan the ocean
For thee, my boatman, with fond devotion
When shall I see thee? today? tomorrow?
Oh! do not leave me in lonely sorrow.



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