Mo Ghile Mear

Mary Black
Woman of Irland
Mo Ghile Mear
Mo Ghile Mear
(My Gallant Darling)

[Irish-Gaelic]

[Rough Phonetic]

[1 agus Curfa]
Sé mo laoch mo Ghile Mear
'Sé mo Chaesar, Ghile Mear,
Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin
Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear.
[2]
Seal da rabhas im' mhaighdean shéimh,
'S anois im' bhaintreach chaite thréith,
Mo chéile ag treabhadh na dtonn go tréan
De bharr na gcnoc is imigéin.
Curfa
[3]
Bímse buan ar buairt gach ló,
Ag caoi go cruaidh 's ag tuar na ndeór
Mar scaoileadh uaim an buachaill beó
'S ná ríomhtar tuairisc uaidh, mo bhrón.
Curfa
[4]
Ní labhrann cuach go suairc ar nóin
Is níl guth gadhair i gcoillte cnó,
Ná maidin shamhraidh i gcleanntaibh ceoigh
Ó d'imthigh sé uaim an buachaill beó.
* Níl curfa anseo...
[5]
Ghile Mear 'sa seal faoi chumha,
'S Eire go léir faoi chlócaibh dubha;
Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin
Ó cuaigh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear.
[1 and Chorus]
Shay muh lay moe Gil-ah Mar
Shay moe Hay-suh, Gil-ah Mar,
Soon nawh shayn nee voor-ahs hayn
Oh coo-ig EE-gayne moe Gil-ah Mar.
[2]
Shall dah ross im wy-gem hay-v,
Sa-nEEsh im vahn-trock caw-cha tray,
Moe kayl egg trav-ah nah gun guh train
Deh var nah ng-ic iss im-ee-gayn.
Chorus
[3]
Beem-sha boo-in air boo-urch gawk low,
Egg key guh crew-eh seg toor nah nyoar
Mar squeal-ah oo-im aun boo-cull b-yo
Snah riv-tar toorisk oo-ig, muh v-roan.
Chorus
[4]
Nee lauw-ron cooirk guh sooirk air no-n
Iss neel guh gah-air ee key-olteh kno,
Nah mah-jen how-ree ee glan-tehv keo
Oh dimmy shay whim aun boo-cul byo.
* No Chorus Here...
[5]
Gil-ah Mar sah shall fwee coov(a),
Iss Air guh lair fwee cloak-ev doov(a);
Soon nah shayne nee voor-ahs hayne
Oh coo-ig e gayne muh Gil-ah Mar.

1. and Chorus:

He's my champion my Gallant Darling, he's my Caesar, a Gallant Darling,
I've found neither rest nor fortune since my Gallant Darling went far away.
2.
Once i was gentle maiden,
but now I'm a spent, worn-out widow,
my consort strongly plowing the waves,
over the hills and far away.
3.
Every day I'm constantly enduring grief,
weeping nitterly and shedding tears,
because my lively lad has left me
and no news is told of him - alas.
4.
The cuckoo doesn't sing cheerfully after noon,
And the sound of hounds isn't heard in the nut-tree woods,
Nor a summer morning in a misty glen
Since my lively boy went away from me.

5.
Gallant Darling for a while under sorrow,
And Ireland completely under black cloaks;
I have found neither rest nor fortune
Since my Gallant Darling went far away.