Dhachaidh do Mhuile

John Angus MacLeod

 

Dhachaidh do Mhuile nach taitneach an smuain sin,

Dhachaidh do m Eilean an cabhaig agluasad;

Criomag den Chruinne nas fhaisge air Nimh leam,

Na Eileanan draoidheil an luib a Chuain Simh.

Mhuile, isd rium an drsd.

 

Dhachaidh gu filte is furan an lerachd,

Dhachaidh gu smhchair bho bhreislich nan ridean;

Dhachaidh gu m chnan s Md Ionadach Dhrelluinn,

Gu cel agus chmradh an Gidhlig na Finn.

Mhuile, isd rium an drsd.

 

Deich bliadhn is tri fichead on Mhd a bhi tsail,

S iomadh neach ealanta sheas air d rd-rlar;

S shiubhail Caol Muile acroladh do chli-sa

Fada is farsainn nar dthaich s thar chuain.

Mhuile, isd rium an drsd.

 

Deagh itean, chleas trighean Chalgaraidh s Chrsaig,

Sreapan tha fallainn air d fhuar-bheannaibh rda;

Sgiths-cadail as eughmhais tulgadh no tladh,

Seach celraidh a Chuain uair a ghluais Mendelssohn.

Mhuile, isd rium an drsd.

 

Rugadh an Ulbha an sr-laoch MacGhuaire,

Cli agus urram chaidh crnadh mu ghuailnean;

Mr-Thir Astrlia mheas e mar Uachdran,

S gu maireannach buan bidh luaidh ac air ainm.

Mhuile, isd rium an drsd.

 

Ann am Bun Easan deagh chuimhne air Miri,

Is a Laoidh luchdmhr mun leanabh san stball;

Chluinnear ga seinn ann an iomadach ite,

Fhads a bhios anail san neach a tha be.

Mhuile, sin dhut mo dhn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Home to Mull, what a wonderful thought,

Making haste, going home to Mull;

A little piece of Earth a little closer to Heaven for me,

Than any of the magical Pacific isles.

Mull, listen to me now.

 

Home to a warm welcome,

Home to peace away from the madness of the highways;

Home to my language and the Mull Local Md,

To music and to converse in the Gaelic of the Fingalians.

Mull, listen to me now.

 

Seventy years since the Md began,

Manys the talented soul that has stood on your stage;

And who crossed the Sound of Mull on the strength of your reputation,

From far and wide, from home and abroad.

Mull, listen to me now.

 

Beautiful places such as Calgary and Carsaig beaches,

Good climbing to be had on your cool, high mountains;

A sound sleep without need of rocking or lullaby,

Just the music of the sea that once captivated Mendelssohn.

Mull, listen to me now.

 

The great man MacQuarrie was born in Ulva,

Manys the honour was heaped on his shoulders;

He was granted governorship of Australia,

And he will be praised for ever.

Mull, listen to me now.

 

Mairi is well-remembered in Bunessan,

And her precious carol of the child in the manger;

To be heard sung in many places,

As long as there is breath in a body.

Mull, heres my song for you.