We owe so much to the work and musicality of the great piper, singer, and scholar Seamus Ennis. Here is a clip from 1965 featuring Seamus performing a song which the host refers to as being “on the top traditional 20, if there were one.”
An Poc Ar Buile
Ag gabháil dom sior chun Droichead Uí Mhóradha
Píce im dhóid ‘s mé ag dul i meithil
Cé casfaí orm i gcuma ceoidh
Ach pocán crón is é ar buile…
curfá
Ailliliú, puilliliú, ailliliú tá an puc ar buile!
Ailliliú, puilliliú, ailliliú tá an puc ar buile!
Do ritheamar trasna trí ruillógach,
Is do ghluais an comhrac ar fud na muinge,
Is treascairt do bhfuair sé sna turtóga
Chuas ina ainneoin ina dhrom le fuinneamh…
curfá
Níor fhág sé carraig go raibh scót ann
Ná gur rith le fórsa chun mé a mhilleadh,
S’Ansan sea do cháith sé an léim ba mhó.
Le fána mhór na Faille Bríce…
curfá
Bhí garda mór i mBaile an Róistigh
Is bhailigh fórsa chun sinn a chlipeadh
Do bhuail sé rop dá adhairc sa tóin ann
S’dá bhríste nua do dhein sé giobail…
curfá
I nDaingean Uí Chúis le haghaidh an tráthnóna
Bhí an sagart paróiste amach ‘nár gcoinnibh
Is é dúirt gurbh é an diabhal ba Dhóigh leis
A ghaibh an treo ar phocán buile…
curfá
English translation
As I set out with me pike in hand
To Dromore town to join a meithil (work gang), *
Who should I meet but a tan puck goat
And he’s roaring mad in ferocious mettle.
Chorus
Aill-il-lu puill-il-iu - Aill-il-lu it’s the mad puck goat.
Aill-il-lu puill-il-iu - Aill-il-lu it’s the mad puck goat.
He chased me over bush and weed
And thru the bog the running proceeded,
‘Til he caught his horns in a clump of gorse
And on his back I jumped unheeded.
Chorus
He did not leave a rock that had a passage through
Which he did not run with force to destroy me
And then he gave the greatest leap
To the big slope of Faille Bríce…
Chorus
When the sergeant stood in Rochestown
With a force of guards to apprehend us
The goat he tore his trousers down ***
And made rags of his breeches and new suspenders
Chorus
In Dingle Town the next afternoon
The parish priest addressed the meeting
And swore it was The Devil himself
He’d seen ridin’ on the poc ar buile
Chorus
Song of the Isles 