Celtic Lyrics Corner > Artists & Groups > Flora MacNeil > Craobh Nan Ubhal > Mo Run Geal Og

   
Craobh Nan Ubhal Mo Run Geal Og
   
Credits: Traditional; arranged by Flora MacNeil & Alison Kinnaird
   
Appears On: Craobh Nan Ubhal
   
Language: Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic)
   
Other Versions: "Cumha Do dh'Uilleam Siosal" on Capercaillie's album The Blood Is Strong
"Mo Run Geal Og" on Capercaillie's album Glenfinnan
"Mo Rùn Geal Òg" on Rachel Walker's album Fon Reul-Sholus
   

Lyrics: English Translation:
   
Och a Thearlaich og Stiubhart Alas, young Charles Stewart
'Se do chuis rinn mo leireadh It is your cause that has left me desolate
Thug thu 'uam gach ni bh'agam You took from me everything that I had
Ann an cogadh 'nad aobhar In war for your sake
Cha chrodh is cha chaoraich It is not sheep or cattle that I mourn
Tha mi 'caoidh ach mo cheile But my husband
O'n la dh'fhag e mi 'm aonar From that day when I was left alone
Gun sion san t-saoghal ach leine With nothing in the world but a shirt
Mo run geal og My fair young love
   
Bu tu fear mor bu mhath cumadh You were tall, of excellent figure
O do mhullach gu d' bhrogan From the crown of your head to your shoes
Tha do shlios mar an eala Your thigh was like the swan's
'S bias na meala air do phogan Your kisses tasted of honey
D'fhalt dualach donn lurach Your beautiful brown hair
Mu do mhuineal an ordugh Was arranged 'round your neck
'Se gu camalubach cuimir Tressed and elegant
Gach aon toit urram d'a bhoidhchead So that all paid tribute to its comeliness
Mo run geal og My fair young love
   
Bu tu 'm fear slinneanach, leathann Wide-shouldered, broad
Bu chaoile meadhan 's bu dhealbhaich Slim-waisted, most shapely
Cha b' e taillear gun eolas Only a skilled tailor
A dheanadh cota math gearra dhut Could make a good short coat for you
No dheanadh dhut triubhais Or make trews
Gun bhith cumhang no gann dhut That were not scrimped or narrow
Mar gheala-bhradain do chasan Like bright salmon your legs
Led ghearr-osan mud chalpa With your short hose about your calves
Mo run geal og My fair young love
   
Bu tu iasgair na h-abhann Fisherman of the river
'S tric a thaghaich thu fein i Often did you visit it
Agus sealgair a'mhonaidh Hunter of the moor
Biodh do ghun' air dheadh ghleusadh With your gun always well primed
Bu bhinn leam tathunn do chuilein' I loved to hear the baying of your hound
Bheireadh fuil air mac eilde Who could blood a stag or hind
As do laimh bu mhor m' earbsa I was confident of the skill of your hand
Gur tric a mharbh thu le cheil' iad Often did you kill them both
Mo run geal og My fair young love
   
___ Fisherman of the open sea and the firth
___ No wind would make you turn your back
___ When that stout champion took the helm
___ Your men, my love
___ Were without fear or concern
___ Though the weather thickened
___ You yourself would keep the ship
___ Dry through the sea
Mo run geal og My fair young love
   
Bu tu poitear na dibhe Deep drinker
'N am suidhe 's tigh-osda 'Round the board in the tavern
Co b'e dh'oladh 's tu phaigheadh Whoever did the drinking, you did the paying
Ged 'thuiteadh cach mu na bordaibh Even when the rest fell under the table
Bhi air mhisg cha b' e b' fhiu leat To be drunk you despised
'S cha d' ionnsaich thu og e You did not learn it in your youth
'S cha d'iarr thu riamh muthadh And you never sought a woman
Air chul do mhna-posda Other then your married wife
Mo run geal og My fair young love
   
'S ioma ban-tighearna riomhach Many the splendid lady
Le 'n sioda 'gus sroltaibh Laden with silks and satins
D' an robh mis a'm' chuis fharmaid To whom I was an object of envy
Chionn gu'n tairgeadh tu pog dhomh Because you'd offer me a kiss
Ach ged a bhithinn cho sealbhar But even were I so prosperous
'S gu'm b' leam airgead Hanobhar As to have all the silver of Hanover
Bheirinn cnac anns na h-aith'ntan I would burst the Commandments
Na'n diultadh cach dhomh do __ If anyone refused my right to you
Mo run geal og My fair young love
   
Och nan och, gur mi bochdag Alas and alack
'S mi lan osnaich an comhnaidh What a wretch I am, ceaselessly sighing
Chaill mi duil ri thu thighinn I lost hope of your return
Thuit mo chridhe gu dortadh My heart sank into despair
Cha tog fidheall no clarsach Neither fiddle or harp will raise it
Piob no taileasg no ceol e Nor pipe, nor gaming, nor music
Nis o chuir iad thu'n tasgadh Since the day they laid you to rest
Cha duisg caidreabh duin' oig mi Young men's advances do not arouse me
Mo run geal og My fair young love