My Wild Irish Rose

Luka Bloom is about to begin his first U.S. tour in quite some time. We’ll celebrate with this great video of Luka performing a “modern” folk classic by Chauncey Olcott, written in 1899.

My Wild Irish Rose

If you listen I’ll sing you a sweet little song
Of a flower that’s now droped and dead,
Yet dearer to me, yes than all of its mates,
Though each holds aloft its proud head.
Twas given to me by a girl that I know,
Since we’ve met, faith I’ve known no repose.
She is dearer by far than the world’s brightest star,
And I call her my wild Irish Rose.

My wild Irish Rose, the sweetest flower that grows.
You may search everywhere,
but none can compare with my wild Irish Rose.
My wild Irish Rose, the dearest flower that grows,
And some day for my sake,
she may let me take the bloom from my wild Irish Rose.

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Aonach Bhearna na Gaoithe

The Irish Traditional Music Archive has a HUGE collections of videos recorded at  Sean-Nós Cois Life festival of singing  from 2001-2012. It’s a joy to just let them roll on by one after one, especially when you come across the amazing Ciarán Ó Gealbháin. I’ve loved his singing since his time with Danú.

About the song, John Daly says in the notes of The Irish Language Miscellany (1876):

“The Fair of Windgap, the subject of the above song, is held in a village distant about four miles from Clonmel, then in the County of Waterford. The author was Tomás Ó Móráin, or Tomás an Bhodhráin, so called from his propensities as an expert player on the tambourine, and on that account was present at every social and merry-making meeting in the county, principally May Boys, to which he was particularly attached. His account of the commodities sold at the fair is most humorous, far outdoing the famous Donnybrook of old, with all its devilries….”

Aonach Bhearna na Gaoithe

Bhí diversion aerach ar an aonach, mórchuid aeir is aoibhnis
Ceolta néata, spórt is scléip, feoil á gléasadh chun bídh ann
Bhí whiskey is ale ann, fíon Geneva, branda craorach bríomhar
Plúr na déise, arán sinséar, is cáis ar scales á ndíol ann.
’San rabhdalam raindí, rabhdalam raindí, rabhdalam raindí réidí
Rabhdalam raindí, rabhdalam raindí, is mallaithe an dream tincéirí

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Gleanntáin Ghlas’ Ghaoth Dobhair

I’ve had Altan on the brain lately, so here’s a great one by the father of Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh, Proinsias Ó Maonaigh. The song was written for his hometown Gaoth Dobhair in Co. Donegal.  You may recognize the tune as the same as Paddy’s Green Shamrock Shore. Here Altan is joined by Moya Brennan of Clannad.

Gleanntáin Ghlas’ Ghaoth Dobhair

Céad slán ag sléibhte maorga chontae Dhún na nGall
Agus dhá chéad slán ag an Earagal árd, ina stua(í) os cionn caor ‘s call
Nuair a ghluais mise thart le loch Dhún Lúiche, go ciún ‘s an ghleann ina luí
I mo dhiaidh bhí Gleanntáin Ghlas’ Ghaoth Dobhair,
is beag nár bhris mo chroí.

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