AN GAOḊAL.
95
A ḂEIRNÁIRD A ṀUIRNÍN NI LEIG-
FEAD ṪÚ ASTEAĊ.
Áṫruiġṫe le
Caiptín Tomás Ṁic Dáiḃi de Norraiḋ,
ó'n Sgoil Ġaeḋilge, 295 'san m-Bealaċ
Cluaineaċ, Eaṁraċ Nuaḋ.
Ḃí 'n oiḋċe fuar, geiṁreaċ 's na gaeṫe
ag grantuġ'ḋ,
An sneaċta na ḃrataiḃ air ċábán 's
air ṡliġe,
Ḃí Beirnárd ag eitill tar cnoic ċum a
ġráḋ ġeal,
Do cnag sé air an ḃ-fuinneoig a raḃ
Cáit óg 'na luiḋeaṁ;
"A ċuisle," ar sé, "ḃ-fuil tú do ċodlaḋ
no 'do ḋúiseaċt,
Tá 'n oiḋċe geur, fuar, 'san mo ċóta
ní'l teas;
Tá 'n sdoirm ag éiríġe, a's an sioc ag
síor ċnagaḋ,
A Ċaitlín mo ṁuirnín, Ó! leig mise
'steaċ."
"A cuiṡle," deir Cáit, a's do laḃair
tré 'n ḃ-fuinneoig,
"Creud fáṫ mo ṁúsgailt as mo leaba
breáġ, ṫeiṫ. ----
Tú teaċt air an uair so atá peac'ṁuil
a's náireaċ ----
Uisge-ḃeaṫa, a's ní gean, atá líonaḋ
do ṗlaoisg:
Dá m-beiḋeaḋ do ċroiḋe fíor air mo
ċáil ḃeiḋṫeá ceanaṁuil,
Smuain air an am, a's 'ní 'l aon liom
'san teaċ;
Cad tá aig cailín boċt aċt a h-ainm
'san t-saoġal so:
A Ḃeirnáird, mo ṁuirnín ní leigfead
ṫú asteaċ."
"A ċuisle," duḃairt sé, "tá mo ċroiḋe
'na ṫobar
Do ċaoiḋfeaċ do' n doċar dó leigfinn
fad' ċoṁair;
Tá d'ainm níos gile 'ná 'n sneaċt' air
na cnocaiḃ,
A's do ġeoḃfainn féin bás, dá ċoim-
éad glé, a stór;
Anois riṫfiḋ mé ḃaile 'n aġaiḋ gaoiṫe
na sléiḃe:
Feadfaiḋ mé 'n fuaċt díom, mar táim
cúitiġṫe go maiṫ,
A's taḃarfaiḋ focail mo Ċailín dom
sólás a's beannuġaḋ,
Ag ráḋ 'a Ḃeirnáid a ṁuirnín, ní leig-
fead ṫú asteaċ.'"
Barney Mavourneen I wont let You in.
Translated by Capt. Thomas D. Norris of the
N. P. C. Society.
'Twas a cold winter's night and the winds were a
snarling,
The snow like a sheet, covered cabin and stile,
When Barney flew over the hills to his darling,
He tapped at the window where Katty did lie,
'Acushla, said he "are you sleeping or waking,
'Tis a bitter cold night, and my coat is so thin,
The storm is a brewing, the frost is a breaking.
O'! Kathleen Mavourneen I pray let me in. *
Acushla, said Kate as she spoke through the window,
Why would you be ta sing us out of our bed,
To come at this time 'tis a shame and a sin too,
'Tis whiskey not love that's got into your head ;
If your heart would be true of my fame you'd be
tender,
What has a poor girl but her name to defend her.
Then Barney Mavourneen I wont let you in.
"Acushla” said he “my heart as a fountain
That would weep for the wrongs I might lay at
your door,
Sure your name is as white as the snow on the
mountain,
And Barney would die to preserve it as pure ;
Now I'll go to my home though the winter winds
face me,
I'll whistle them off for I'm happy within,
And the words of my Kathleen will comfort and
bless me,
Saying Barney Mavourneen I wont let you in.
* Repeat the two last lines of each verse.
YOUGHAL HARBOR.
There is another version of this familiar song we
are indebted to the Hon. Denis Burns for both it
and one of the poet Walsh's, which follows it.
Maidin doṁnaiġ as mé ag dul go
h-Eoċaill.
Casaḋ an óig-bean orm 's an t-sliġe;
A gruaḋ a lasaḋ mar rós a n-gáirdín,
'S ba binne a béilín 'na ceolta siġe:
Leag mé láṁ air a bráḋaid le fórsa,
Agus d' iarr mé póigín air stór mo
ċroiḋe;
'Sé duḃairt sí "stad, as no stróic mo
ċlóicín,
