Gaelic Column

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 51, 17 March 1894, Page 7

Gaelic Column

GAELIC SONG. We have many excellent Gaelic bards, whose songs and poems may well claim a high place in the literature —■ Maclntyre, Morrison, Rob Donn, Mac Coll, and William Ross are among a few of those whose compositions have been given to the world. But there are still a good many songs and poems handed down orally from father to son, which would be well worth saving from oblivion. Most of these were composed by bards “ Whose songs gushed from their hearts As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start \ called forth by the intensity of their feelings, whether of joy, [grief, or of love. The following’ song was composed by my old friend, Mr John McFadyen, whose songs and poems are full of merit, and extremely popular among Highlanders at Home and abroad. To those brought up among the straths and glens of the West Highlands of Fcotland, and accustomed to view nature in the early May mornings, this will, no doubt, revive many pleasant experiences and incidents in their early life. PA’ MHADUINN CHEITEIN ' CHIUINN.

Air Fonn —“ Jock o’ Hazeldean.” An t-siiil ri muirn ’us gairdeachas, Le ailleachd ghleann ’us stuehd, A ’chluas le fuaim ga sasachadh, ’Sna poraibh lan le this. An sealladh so, mu's leir dhuit e, Bheir neart ’us spreirid ’s iuil, Oirdhearcas nan sleibhtibh mor, Air raaduinn cheitein chiuinn. Mi’g imeachd air anfhorm m»*’n cuairt, Gur maoth fo m ’bhuinn na toic, A chointeach gorm-bhar chleiteagach, ’S i ’geiridh ’n deigh mo bhroig. An neoinein or-shul gheal-bhileach, Le chrom-cheann a measg fedir, ’San driiichd mar chuirnein airgiodair, ’S air seamragan nan lon. ’S gur sgiathach, stiallach, badanach, ’Ha phaidireanan an ceo, Mu mhulachd bheann mar cheannaodach, Co-cheangal ris na nedil ; An t-athar ard na bhuilg-shoilleir, ’S troimh ’n ghuirm tha gathan dir, ’S na reultan fhcin air fannachadh, Aig camhanaich an lb. Gur cedi tha binn ri eisdeachd learn, Thig o gach creutair ail, ’S tha inneal ciuil g’ am brosnachadh, An coill nan dos-crann ard ; Tha ’n smeorach aims an duilleach uain, ’S g’ a freagairt druid air lar, ’S gur fonn mh or, srannmhor, caithreamach, Tha clacharan nan earn. Ha h-uilt measg thorn a morbhanaich, ’S far bhruach le torman reidh, Troimh ’nfhraoch, an roid’sa ’bheallaidh, ’Us cannaichean geal an t-sleibh —■ Tha geal bhricein ’sa ghlumaig ud, ’Sa ’chulag ris ’cur reis, ’S am bradan tara-gheal dearg-bhall-ach, Hi steallraichean a’ leum. Tha ’n loch, a lion o’n iarmailte, Le ianlaith air tighinn bed, Air ’ bhroilleach chi mi sgiathail iad, ’S gun ghaoth ach fiath g’a choir ;

Tha ’n fhapileann bheag ag ulfhardaioli, ’S tha curracag eisg air sail, Tha guileag binn o n ghnlbairneach, ’S tha ghulmag air an traigh.

Air uchd a’ chuain’s a’ faileas ann, G-ur hoidheach lainnir sgeith, ’S tha toit a hhothain shimplidh nd, ’Dol direach anns an spenr. Tha barman sliabh ’s na bearraichean, Air lasadh aims a’ ghrein, ’San seilein fhein ’us srann aige, Mu ’n cuairt nan tom le seir.

Fhir bha ’n raoir a poitaireachd, ’Sna cuachan dh’ ol gu’n grunnd, Trom-lidhe air do leabaidh ort, A dh’ fhagas d’ aigne bruit’, ’S ged robh do chluasag’s canach innt’, Cha toir do chadal sunnd, ’Us chaill thu ’u sealladh eibhinn ud, ’S a’ mhaduinn cheitein chiuin. Cababfkidh.