MacEdward Leach and the Songs of Atlantic Canada
Tha Mulad, Tha Mulad 's Gu Bheil Duilchinn Orm
(Sad, Sad and Grief Stricken am I)
Alex MacKinnon CB 1 Tape 4 Track 1
Lake Ainslie Audio:
Love Song

Gaelic

'S tha mulad tha mulad 's gu bheil duilichinn orm
far nach fhaodainn-sa... ud a dh'èisdeachd manran do bheòil.

Tha sac trom air mo chrìdhe nach tog fidheal no pìob
Bho'n a dhealaich mo leanann rium aig cladach Port-rìgh.

'S fheàrr miann a chuir as gus na thogadh falt far mo chinn
Chuid nach 'eil dhe glas bhiodh e bho'n a shad leis a ghaoith.

Cha dean lighich bonn feum dhomh, ni fo'n ghrèin ach aon ni
Fo'n a chail mi mo chèile gus mi call mo chuimhne 'ga caoidh.

'S dean thusa mo phòsadh, cha bhi stòras ort gann
Bidh gach cruinneachd is d' fhonn aig do chrodh mòr anns na glinn

'S bidh gun alt a do bhrògan, gu bòidheach 's gu teann
'S mi gu stùireadh do bhàt air chuan àrd 's air bharr chrann.

'S mo nighean donn nan deadh bheusan, gu robh mi'n dèidh ort o thùs
Cha b'e rudhadh nan eilean a chìte 'g èiridh nad' ghnùis.

Gruaidh cho dearg ris na caoran, slios mar fhaolag air snàmh
'S bochd fear thug ceud gaoil do thi nach fhaodadh a dhol dha.

'S cha tèid mise ri m' bheò don a mhuillinn ud thall
'S ann a thèid mi do'n chlachan, 's bidh clach aig mo cheann.

Far nach cluinnte mo chòmhradh ri ar beò na ri ar caoidh
'S ga fideil 's gu brònach, 's bidh i 'dol air chall.

English

Sad, sad, and grief stricken am I
Because I cannot go... to hear your melodious voice.

There is heaviness in my heart, that a fiddle or pipe cannot lift
Since I parted with my love on the shore at Portree.

I have to curt desire, and have lost the hair on my head
The little of it that is not grey is blown about by the wind.

A doctor cannot help me, only one thing under the sun
Since I have lost my beloved, I am nearly losing my mind lamenting her.

If you married me you would not want for anything
There would be plenty feeding and land for your cattle in the glens.

Your shoes would have no seams, so pretty and firm
I would steer your ship, on high seas on the top of the masts.

My brown-haired maid of many virtues, I have long desired you
It is not the blush of the islands that is seen in your cheek.

Your cheek is red as the rowan berries, your skin like a seagull swimming
Poor is he who gave his first love to one who could not go to him.

I shall never go to the mill over yonder
I shall be in the churchyard with a stone at my head.

Where no one will hear my voice lamenting
Twisted and sorrowful and lost.


Notes

This love song was written from the perspective of a man whose sweetheart has sailed away from him and her home on the island of Skye. Alex elaborated on the story by informing Leach that it was the decision of the young girl’s parents that she should leave the island.

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