Bruach Na Carraige Báine

Duets are few and far between in music of traditional music, but this performance by Séamus Begley and Mary Black proves they are well worth it. The air of this song is partially responsible for the music of the well-known song A Stór mo Chroí

Bruach Na Carraige Báine

Is thiar cois abhainn gan bhréag gan dabht
Ta an ainnir chiúin tais mhánla
Is gur ghile a cam ná an eala ar an dtonn
Ó bhaitheas go bonn a bróige
‘Sí an stáidbhean í a chráigh mo chroí
Is d’fhág sí i m’intinn brónach
Is leigheas le fáil níl agam go brách
Ó dhiúltaigh mo ghrá gheal domsa

Ó b’fhearr liom fhéin ná Éire mhóir
Ná saibhres Rí na Spáinne
Go mbéinnse ‘gus tusa i lúb na finne
I gcoilltibh i bhfad ón ár gcáirde
Ó mise ‘gus tusa bheith pósta a ghrá
Le haontoil athar is máthair
A mhaighdean óig is milse póg
Tú grian na Carraige Báine

‘S a stuaire an chinn cailce, más dual dom go mbeir agam
Beidh cóir ort a thaithneodh led’ cháirde
Idir shíoda ‘gus hata ó bhonn go bathas
‘S gach ní sa chathair dá bhfeabhas
Beidh do bhólacht á gcasadh gach neoin chun baile
Is ceol binn ag beacha ar bhánta
Go bruach na Carraige Báine


And west by the river, without a doubt or lie
There is a quiet gentle beauty
And her waist is a bright as any swan on the wave
From the crown of her head to the soles of her feet
She is the woman that tormented my heart
And left me heartbroken
There is nothing that will cure me
Since my true love rejected me

I would prefer, than all of Ireland
Or the wealth of the king of Spain
That you and I could be together in a quiet spot
In a wood far from our friends
Oh you and I to be married, my love
With the permission of father and mother
Oh young maiden of the sweet kisses
You’re the sun of the White Rocks

Oh beauty of the white hair, if you would be mine
You would have everything your friends would like
From silk to hats, from head to toe
And the best of everything in the city
Your cows would be driven every noon to the town
And the bees in the meadow would sing sweetly for you
You would have your fill of drink and have coaches to take you
All around the edge of the White Rocks

Farewell, Farewell

A lovely song which was written in 1969 by Richard Thompson.  The tune is from the traditional song Willy O’Winsbury. The recording was first released on the Fairport Convention album Liege & Lief. Mary Black recorded it on By the Time It Gets Dark and is seen here performing it on the BBC’s Highland Sessions.

Farewell, farewell to you who’d hear
You lonely travellers all.
The cold North wind will blow again
The winding road does call.

And will you never return to see your
Bruised and beaten sons?
Oh, I would, I would if welcome I were
For they loathe me ev’ryone.

And will you never cut the cloth
Or drink the light to be?
And can you never swear a year
To anyone but we?

No I will never cut the cloth
Or drink the light to be,
But I’ll swear a year to one who lies
Asleep alongside of me.

Farewell, farewell to you who’d hear
You lonely travellers all.
The cold North wind will blow again
The winding road does call.

My Own Native Land

One of my favorite recordings from Cherish the Ladies. Mary Black sings this ode to Éireann. Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

My Own Native Land

There’s a dear little isle in the Western Ocean
An island of purity, holy and grand
Whose name fills its daughters and sons with emotion
When heard on the shores of a far distant land.

It’s Ireland, my country, the birthplace of heroes
The home of the patriot, warrior and sage
Of bards and of chieftains whose names live in story
May they live forever on history’s page.

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