AN GAODHAL.
95
A BHEIRNÁIRD A MHUIRNÍN NI LEIG-
FEAD THÚ ASTEACH.
Áthruighthe le
Caiptín Tomás Mhic Dáibhi de Norraidh,
ó'n Sgoil Ghaedhilge, 295 'san m-Bealach
Cluaineach, Eamhrach Nuadh.
Bhí 'n oidhche fuar, geimhreach 's na gaethe
ag grantugh'dh,
An sneachta na bhrataibh air chábán 's
air shlighe,
Bhí Beirnárd ag eitill tar cnoic chum a
ghrádh gheal,
Do cnag sé air an bh-fuinneoig a rabh
Cáit óg 'na luidheamh;
"A chuisle," ar sé, "bh-fuil tú do chodladh
no 'do dhúiseacht,
Tá 'n oidhche geur, fuar, 'san mo chóta
ní'l teas;
Tá 'n sdoirm ag éiríghe, a's an sioc ag
síor chnagadh,
A Chaitlín mo mhuirnín, Ó! leig mise
'steach."
"A cuishle," deir Cáit, a's do labhair
tré 'n bh-fuinneoig,
"Creud fáth mo mhúsgailt as mo leaba
breágh, theith. ----
Tú teacht air an uair so atá peac'mhuil
a's náireach ----
Uisge-bheatha, a's ní gean, atá líonadh
do phlaoisg:
Dá m-beidheadh do chroidhe fíor air mo
cháil bheidhtheá ceanamhuil,
Smuain air an am, a's 'ní 'l aon liom
'san teach;
Cad tá aig cailín bocht acht a h-ainm
'san t-saoghal so:
A Bheirnáird, mo mhuirnín ní leigfead
thú asteach."
"A chuisle," dubhairt sé, "tá mo chroidhe
'na thobar
Do chaoidhfeach do' n dochar dó leigfinn
fad' chomhair;
Tá d'ainm níos gile 'ná 'n sneacht' air
na cnocaibh,
A's do gheobhfainn féin bás, dá choim-
éad glé, a stór;
Anois rithfidh mé bhaile 'n aghaidh gaoithe
na sléibhe:
Feadfaidh mé 'n fuacht díom, mar táim
cúitighthe go maith,
A's tabharfaidh focail mo Chailín dom
sólás a's beannughadh,
Ag rádh 'a Bheirnáid a mhuirnín, ní leig-
fead thú asteach.'"
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 domhnaigh as mé ag dul go
h-Eochaill.
Casadh an óig-bean orm 's an t-slighe;
A gruadh a lasadh mar rós a n-gáirdín,
'S ba binne a béilín 'na ceolta sighe:
Leag mé lámh air a brádhaid le fórsa,
Agus d' iarr mé póigín air stór mo
chroidhe;
'Sé dubhairt sí "stad, as no stróic mo
chlóicín,
