Amhrán Mhaínis - JOHN BEAG Ó FLATHARTA:
AMHRÁN MHAÍNIS / THE SONG OF MWEENISH
John Beag's voice is powerful and compelling and this performance bears witness to his emergence as one of Gaelic music's most popular and important ambassadors. No surprise then to learn that he has been the Connemara King of Song since the 1980s.
'Amhrán Mhaínse' (also known as 'Amhrán Mhuínse') - gut churning and heart rending in its extraordinary emotional power - has become popular around the Connemara area in the last fifty to sixty years. It is not known to me or to anyone else as far as I can see, who wrote the mighty words, who composed the grand melody,
Be that as it may, the song expresses the longing and wish of a woman from Maínis, who was married on the other side of Cuan Chill Chiaráin in a place called Leitir Calaidh, to be buried amongst her own people in the graveyard in Maínis. It is now sung at funerals where they replace the name of Maínis graveyard with the name of the graveyard where their deceased is being buried.
In the first verse the unknown woman says that if she was three leagues out to sea, or on faraway hills, with no earthly being, or with no shelter in a blizzard but could just could talk with her Taimín Bán (fair Tommy) she would not feel the night pass by.
The song goes on to express her wish that Páidín Mór (Big Paddy) would bring her remains to Maínis in his sailboat and that her coffin be made of the finest pale wood, and that, if he is still living there, the coffin be made by the hands of Seán Ó hEidhin of Maínis.
In the final verse she imagines her last journey across Cuan Chill Chiaráin towards her final resting place in Maínis.
At Inse Ghainnimh, an island off Leiter Caladh, there will be a big swell and her wish is not to be brought there as her people are not there.
Instead she wishes to be brought to Maínis where the resounding cries of her own people will be heard. There will be welcoming lights on the sand dunes and she will never feel lonely there.
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AMHRÁN MHAÍNIS
Dá mbeinn trí léig i bhfarraige
Nó i sléibhte i bhfad ó thír
'S gan aon neach beo i mo ghaobhar ann
Ach a' raithneach glas 's fraoch,
An sneachta á shéideadh ó thuaidh is ó dheas
'S an ghaoth 'gá fhuadach dhíom,
'S mé a bheith ag comhrá le mo Teaimín Bán
'S níorbh fhada liomsa an oíche.
A Mhuire dhílis, céard a dhéanfas mé?
Tá na geimhreadh seo 'teacht fuar,
'S a Mhuire dhílis, céard a dhéanfas mé
Leis an teach seo is a bhfuil ann?
Dá mba tusa fhéin a d'imeodh uaim
Agus mise fanacht beo,
Bheinn ag comhrá le do chlainne
Is ní aireoinn oíche ná ló.
Agus gearraidh amach mo chóntró dhom
As fíorscoth gheal na gclár.
'S má tá Seán Ó hEidhinn i Maínis
Béadh sé déanta uaidh ina láimh.
Béadh mo chaipín 's mo ribínín iata istigh dhe
'S iad go ródheas ar mo cheann,
'S tabharfadh Páidín Mór go Maínis mé
Nó is garbh a bhéas an lá.
'Dhul siar le hInse Ghainimh dhúinn
Beidh an fharraige ag éirí ard.
Ach ná tugaidh i Leitir Calaidh mé
Mar ní ann atá mo dhream.
Ach tugaidh siar go Maínis mé
An áit a gcaoinfear mé os árd,
Beidh soilse ar na dumhachannaí
'S ní bheidh uaigneas orm ann.
THE SONG OF MWEENISH
If I were three leagues out at sea
Or on mountains far from home,
And without any living thing near me there,
But the green fern and heather,
The snow being blown on me from the north and the south
And the wind whipping it off me,
And if I were conversing with my fair Tommy,
I would not find the night long.
And, dear Mary, what will I do?
This winter is coming on cold.
And, dear Mary, what will I do
With this house and with all those in it?
If it was yourself that would part from me
And me who would stay alive,
I would be talking with your children
And I wouldn't notice night or day.
Cut my coffin out for me
From the choicest of white planks.
And if Seán Hynes is in Mweenish
Let it be made by his hand.
Let my cap and my little ribbon be inside in it
And they nicely placed on my head,
And have Big Paddy take me to Mweenish
For it will be a rough that day.
And as we go west by Inse Ghainimh,
The sea will be rising high,
But do not take me to Leitir Calaidh
For that's not where my people are.
But bring me west to Mweenish
The place where I will be mourned out loud,
There will be lights upon the dunes
And I'll not be lonely there.
John Beag's voice is powerful and compelling and this performance bears witness to his emergence as one of Gaelic music's most popular and important ambassadors. No surprise then to learn that he has been the Connemara King of Song since the 1980s.
'Amhrán Mhaínse' (also known as 'Amhrán Mhuínse') - gut churning and heart rending in its extraordinary emotional power - has become popular around the Connemara area in the last fifty to sixty years. It is not known to me or to anyone else as far as I can see, who wrote the mighty words, who composed the grand melody,
Be that as it may, the song expresses the longing and wish of a woman from Maínis, who was married on the other side of Cuan Chill Chiaráin in a place called Leitir Calaidh, to be buried amongst her own people in the graveyard in Maínis. It is now sung at funerals where they replace the name of Maínis graveyard with the name of the graveyard where their deceased is being buried.
In the first verse the unknown woman says that if she was three leagues out to sea, or on faraway hills, with no earthly being, or with no shelter in a blizzard but could just could talk with her Taimín Bán (fair Tommy) she would not feel the night pass by.
The song goes on to express her wish that Páidín Mór (Big Paddy) would bring her remains to Maínis in his sailboat and that her coffin be made of the finest pale wood, and that, if he is still living there, the coffin be made by the hands of Seán Ó hEidhin of Maínis.
In the final verse she imagines her last journey across Cuan Chill Chiaráin towards her final resting place in Maínis.
At Inse Ghainnimh, an island off Leiter Caladh, there will be a big swell and her wish is not to be brought there as her people are not there.
Instead she wishes to be brought to Maínis where the resounding cries of her own people will be heard. There will be welcoming lights on the sand dunes and she will never feel lonely there.
************************
AMHRÁN MHAÍNIS
Dá mbeinn trí léig i bhfarraige
Nó i sléibhte i bhfad ó thír
'S gan aon neach beo i mo ghaobhar ann
Ach a' raithneach glas 's fraoch,
An sneachta á shéideadh ó thuaidh is ó dheas
'S an ghaoth 'gá fhuadach dhíom,
'S mé a bheith ag comhrá le mo Teaimín Bán
'S níorbh fhada liomsa an oíche.
A Mhuire dhílis, céard a dhéanfas mé?
Tá na geimhreadh seo 'teacht fuar,
'S a Mhuire dhílis, céard a dhéanfas mé
Leis an teach seo is a bhfuil ann?
Dá mba tusa fhéin a d'imeodh uaim
Agus mise fanacht beo,
Bheinn ag comhrá le do chlainne
Is ní aireoinn oíche ná ló.
Agus gearraidh amach mo chóntró dhom
As fíorscoth gheal na gclár.
'S má tá Seán Ó hEidhinn i Maínis
Béadh sé déanta uaidh ina láimh.
Béadh mo chaipín 's mo ribínín iata istigh dhe
'S iad go ródheas ar mo cheann,
'S tabharfadh Páidín Mór go Maínis mé
Nó is garbh a bhéas an lá.
'Dhul siar le hInse Ghainimh dhúinn
Beidh an fharraige ag éirí ard.
Ach ná tugaidh i Leitir Calaidh mé
Mar ní ann atá mo dhream.
Ach tugaidh siar go Maínis mé
An áit a gcaoinfear mé os árd,
Beidh soilse ar na dumhachannaí
'S ní bheidh uaigneas orm ann.
THE SONG OF MWEENISH
If I were three leagues out at sea
Or on mountains far from home,
And without any living thing near me there,
But the green fern and heather,
The snow being blown on me from the north and the south
And the wind whipping it off me,
And if I were conversing with my fair Tommy,
I would not find the night long.
And, dear Mary, what will I do?
This winter is coming on cold.
And, dear Mary, what will I do
With this house and with all those in it?
If it was yourself that would part from me
And me who would stay alive,
I would be talking with your children
And I wouldn't notice night or day.
Cut my coffin out for me
From the choicest of white planks.
And if Seán Hynes is in Mweenish
Let it be made by his hand.
Let my cap and my little ribbon be inside in it
And they nicely placed on my head,
And have Big Paddy take me to Mweenish
For it will be a rough that day.
And as we go west by Inse Ghainimh,
The sea will be rising high,
But do not take me to Leitir Calaidh
For that's not where my people are.
But bring me west to Mweenish
The place where I will be mourned out loud,
There will be lights upon the dunes
And I'll not be lonely there.
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