Eilean Muile far an d’ thug mi suain
Ceitidh Smith
O gur mi tha brònach,
O tha mi fo ghruaim;
On d’fhàg mi’n àit’
san d’fhuair mi m’àrach òg,
Eilean Muile far an d’thug mi suain.
Dh’fhàg mi na cluaintean,
Is fuaim a’ chuain nam chluais;
Thall sa bhlàr le claimheamh geurlann,
‘S misneach mhòr mar bh’againn
anns a’ ghleann.
O seinnidh mi mun dealbh seo,
Na beanntan gorm fo cheò;
Shealg mi na fèidh ‘s na coilich dhubh’,
An drast’ a dhìon Muile ‘s e mo rùn.
O càit’ bheil na gillean,
Is òg-bhean mo chridh’?
Chan eil Muile mar a chuimhneam ann,
Ag atharrachadh le chaoraich
feadh nam beann.
Ach ‘s cinnteach nar linn oirnn,
Eirigh sinn le sròl nan dòrn;
Bidh clann na Gàidheil ann
a sheo gu bràth,
Mo ghaol air Eilean Muile
nam beann àrd.
The Isle of
O I am sorrowful
O I am under gloom
Since I left the place where I grew up
The Isle of
I left the meadows
And the sound of the sea in my ears
Over to the battle with the sharp swords
And the great courage like we had
in the glen
O I will sing about that image
The blue mountains under the mist
I hunted deer and the black cock
Now protecting
O where are the young men
And the young wife, my love
Changed by sheep amongst the hill
But surely in our lifetime
We will rise up with
our banners in our fists
The children of the Gaels
will be here forever
My love to the Isle of