Clár Cinn le hÁine Cooke

Cuaichín Ghleann Neifín

Éireoidh mé amárach le fáinne an lae ghléigil
Agus déanfaidh mé mo dhea-rás amach faoi na sléibhte,
Fágfaidh mé mo bheannacht ag mná deasa an tsaoil seo,
Agus 'dheamhan an filleadh abhaile dom go labhraí an chuach i mbarr na gcraobh ann.

Tá mo ghrá mar bhláth na n-airne a bhfíos ag fás i dtús an tsamhraidh,
Nó mar nóiníní bána a bhíos ag snámh sa ghleannta,
Nó mar 'bheadh grian os cionn Charnáin sa tsráid ag gabháil síos dom,
Is mar siúd a bhíos mo ghrá bán ag déanamh ramhailt' tri m'intinn.

Nach aoibhinn don áiléar a mbíonn mo ghrá geal ag gabháil air,
Nach aoibhinn don talamh úd a siúlann a bróg air,
Nach ró-aoibhinn don ógfhear a gheobhas mo stóirín le pósadh
Is í réalt eolais na maidine í agus drúcht an tráthnona

The Little Cuckoo of Glen Nefin

I will get up tomorrow at the bright dawn of day
And I will race out onto the mountains
And I'll bid farewell to the pretty women of this world
And I swear not to return until the the cuckoo sings on the tops of the branches there.

My love is like the sloe blossom which grows at the beginning of summer,
Or like white daisies swimming in the glen
Or like the sun over Carnán [mountain] in the street/village as I go down
That's how my fair love torments my mind.

Isn't it pleasant for the high upon which my fair love goes
Isn't it pleasant for the ground her shoe walks upon
Isn't it most pleasant for the young man whom my love will marry
She is the guiding star of the morning and the dew of the evening.

Siar go Ceol / Back to Ceol (Music)