A MHUILE NAM BEANN

Allan MacDonald

 

Sist:

A Mhuile nam Beann

D dhfhg mi a seinn air do chir?

Le d eachdraidh cho falaicht mar r.

 

Bha mi uair air do bhrigh,

Aig an Tobar aig Moire sa bhgh

Le iongantas.

 

S ann a chaidh mi air srid

A dhfhaicinn nan daoin a tha

Is mar a bha.

 

Chaidh mi suas dhan taigh-sd

Far an draiginn l le dig,

Cha robh iad ann.

 

Fear bha freasdal air chl,

Cha do thuig mi a ghuth ach an c

A bha comhartaich.

 

Cuid le m btanan uain

Bheireadh inbhe nas irde na cch,

Nach buidhe dhaibh!

 

Cuid a thinig gu tr,

Le m btanan beaga cho bragha,

Cho buidhe leoth!

 

Ach misneachd cha dfhg mi,

S fear nam btanan dubha air fire,

Is boineid air!

 

Thug mi iomradh sa chainnt,

Ciamar a tha thu an-diugh, s tha i blth,

S cha dfhreagair e.

 

Who are you? thuirt e rium,

I do not know what you are saying,

Is tharraing e.

 

Ach thoir an aire mar tha,

Tha sinn feumach air barrachd na bhi caoidh

Na thachair dhuinn.

 

Fhuair na daoine sin meas

Air Muile nan tobhta s nam preas,

Mar bhiodh an dil.

 

Ged s gann tha ar sluagh,

Tha ln m ann ar guth thoirt gu cluais

Gach fear aca.

 

Gidhlig Mhuile air chall

Se n fhrinn a th ann gu tur,

Ge boil dhuinn e.

 

Chan eil ann ach aon digh

Le misneachd s nnleachd threun:

Ath nuadhachadh.

 

Ln fhghlaim dhen chainnt

A bhuineas dhan tr mar is cir

Gun lagachadh.

 

Cuir a chuibhle mun cuairt:

English you cant stop us speaking

Cuir Gidhlig air!

 

 

 

Chorus:

Mull of the Mountains,

What has left me singing for you?

Your history like hidden gold.

 

I was once on your brae,

At Marys Well in the bay

And curious.

 

I took a walk along the street

To see the folks there

And the way things were.

 

I went into the pub,

Where I hoped to take a dram with your young folk,

They were not to be seen.

 

The man behind the bar -

I didnt understand him, only the dog

Who was barking.

 

Some with their green wellies,

Setting them a cut above the rest,

Good for them!

 

Some who landed there,

In their pretty little boots,

So yellow!

 

But I didnt lose hope,

I spied a man on the horizon in black wellies

And a bunnet!

 

I spoke to him in my language,

How are you today, isnt it warm,

And he didnt reply.

 

Who are you? he said to me,

I do not know what you are saying,

And off he went.

 

But take care,

We need to do more than complain about

What has befallen us.

 

These people have come to love

Mull of the ruins and bushes,

As you might expect.

 

Though we are few,

Its high time we brought our voices

To the attention of each one of them.

 

Mulls Gaelic is lost,

Its the complete truth,

Whether we like it or not.

 

Theres only one way,

With optimism and hard graft:

Renewal.

 

Well-schooled in the language

That belongs to the land as it should

Without dilution.

 

Turn full circle:

English you cant stop us speaking

Try saying that in Gaelic!