Lon Doire An Chairn
Blackbird Of Doire An Chairn


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Lon Doire An Chairn

Binn sin, a Loin Doire an Chairn!
Ní chuala mé in aird sa bhith
Ceol ba binne ná do cheol
agus tú fá bhun do nid

Aoincheol is binne fán mbith
mairg nach éisteann leis go fóill
A mhic Calprainn na gclog mbinn
is go mbéarthá aríst ar do nóin

Agat, mar tá agam féin
dá mbeith deimhin scéil an eoin
Do-ghéantá déara go dian
‘s ní bhiadh t’aire ar Dhia go fóill

I gcrích Lochlann na sreabh ngorm
fuair mac Cumhaill na gcorn ndearg
An t-éan do-chíthe-se anois
ag sin a scéal doit go dearbh

Doire an Chairn an choill úd thiar
mar a ndéindís an Fhiann fos
Ar áille is ar chaoimhe a crann
is eadh do cuireadh ann an lon

Sgolghaire luin Doire an Chairn
búithre an daimh ó Aill na gCaor
Ceol le gcodladh Fionn go moch
lachain ó Loch na dTrí gCaol

Cearca fraoich um Chruachain Chuinn
feadghail dobhráin Druim Dhá Loch
Gotha fiulair Ghlinn’ na bhFuath
longhaire cuach Chnuic na Scoth

Gotha gadhair Ghleanna Caoin
is gáir fhiolair chaoich na sealg
Tairm na gcon ag triall go moch
isteach ó Thráigh na gCloch nDearg

An tráth do mhair Fionn ‘s an Fhiann
dob ansa leo sliabh ná cill
Ba binn leosan fuighle lon
gotha na gclog leo níor bhinn

Blackbird Of Doire An Chairn

Beautiful, O Blackbird of Doire an Chairn!
Nowhere on Earth have I heard
A lovelier music than yours
there as you guard your nest

The world’s loveliest song
a shame you won’t listen a while
Mac Calprainn of the sweet bells
You could still fit in your nones

If you knew, as I know myself
the real story of that bird
You would have to cry hard tears
and forget your God a while

In a blue-rivered Viking region
Mac Cumhaill of the burnished goblets
Found the bird you see before you
true is the tale I tell

Doire an Chairn is the wood back there
where the Fianna took their rest
So fine and fair its trees
they set the blackbird there

Throat-song of the blackbird of Doire an Chairn
stag’s call from Aill na gCaor
Where Fionn’s music, sleeping at morn
and the ducks from Loch na dTrí gCaol

The grouse at Cruachan, seat of Conn
otters whistling at Druim Dhá Loch
Eagle cry in Gleann na bhFuath
cuckoo’s murmur on Chnuic na Scoth

Dog’s voices in Ghleanna Caoin
cry of the half-blind hunting eagle
Patter of hounds, on their way early
in from Thráigh na gCloch nDearg

When Fionn and the Fianna lived
they loved the hills, not hermit-cells
Blackbird speech is what they loved
not the sound, unlovely, of your bells



NAVAN ::: Mairneas
NAVAN: An Cuimhin Leat
 
 



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Last Updated 12 June 2005