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Magh ass e kishtey Words and melody Aalin Clague
Shoh yn jerrey
Tra ta'n chengey roie er oaie gyn geiyrt er sarey
Choud’s t'ee roie dy bieau, t’ee cassey as t’ee lhoobey
Cha nod shiu reurey coorse dy 'reayll ee fo smaght
Ta’n chengey roie er oaie gyn cur diu geill
Ta’n chengey skiootal myr dy vel ee struan
As ta’n chengey skiootal magh ass ymmodee beill
Ta ny fockleyn cloie gyn nearey ayns yn ushtey
Choud’s ta'd snuggal er nyn durrys mestey vestey
Gymmyrkey tuigyn
Gymmyrkey duillagyn
Gymmyrkey beishteigyn
Gymmyrkey plastagh
Gymmyrkey Baarle
Ahtreih Ahtreih dy ren ee cheet dy ve cho sollagh
Agh gyn smaght nagh nee shoh yn eirtys jerkit?
Ta Bnr MacCooill er jeet magh ass e kishtey
As t'ee daunleyn marish quoi erbee ta seyr
T'ee griaghtagh as crootagh as t'ee croutagh
As t’ee kiarail feddyn caarjyn noa..
Out of her box
This is the end
When the language runs on without guidance
Whilst the language runs on swiftly,
twisting and turning
You can’t dig a course to keep her under control
The language is running on without paying you heed
The language is rushing forth like a stream
The language is tumbling from many mouths
The words play shamelessly in the water while they bob on their journey, mixed up,
Picking up twigs,
picking up leaves,
Picking up small creatures,
picking up plastic
Picking up English
Alas, Alas that it has become so dirty
But without control, isn’t this what you would expect?
Mrs MacCooill is out of her box
She’s dancing with anyone available
She’s gregarious, creative and cunning
She intends to find new friends....
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2. |
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Hie mee gys y chibbyr agh yn chibbyr v'eh chirrym
(I went to the well but the well was empty)
Who's hiding around that corner?
Who's waiting to jump out now?
There's a shadow getting bigger
They've already pulled the trigger
Fear has come to town
Hie mee gys y chubbyrt agh yn chubbyrt v'eh follym
(I went to the cupboard but the cupboard was empty)
Who's hiding around that corner
Who's waiting to jump out now
Is it a clown or a politician
A boy or girl on a terror mission
Wanting to be on the television
In the darkness counting down.... 10 9 8...
Stand up,
speak up,
don't be shut up
Don't be complacent
Stop all the hating
There in the darkness
Evil is waiting
Open your heart
Open your mind
Open your door
Try to be kind
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3. |
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C’raad ta’n lhiggeyder folley,
nish ta nieu roie ayns my cuishleeyn?
C’raad ta’n lhiggeyder folley,
da lhiggey my henn vea skellal roish?
Where’s the blood-letter, now that my veins run with poison?
Where’s the blood-letter to let my old life seep away
C’raad ta’n fer-craue
nish ta reddyn tuittym voym?
C’raad ta’n fer-craue
dy aa-hroggal my chorp?
Where’s the bone-setter now that everything is falling apart?
Where’s the bone-setter to re-build my body?
C’raad ta’n feddynagh ushtey,
nish ta chirmid ayns my cuishleeyn?
C’raad ta’n feddynagh ushtey,
dy ‘eddyn magh yn coorse my chree
Where’s the water-diviner, now my veins have run dry?
Where’s the water-diviner, to find the course of my heart?
C’raad ta’n casteyder folley
nish ta jerkallys roie myr struanyn?
C’raad ta’n casteyder folley
dy scuirr my vea veih skellal roish?
Where’s the blood- stopper, now that hope runs like streams?
Where’s the blood-stopper, to stop my life from running away?
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4. |
Dub ny h-Ollagh
05:42
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The winds forget to send even a breeze
Into this hollow of the leaning hills;
Here storms are but wild rumours of unease
Echoing about the heights whence water spills
Through rushy moorland springs and heathery rills
Into the secrecy of crowding trees,
Where the quick silence all its clamour stills
To liquid murmurs soft as memories.
No hawk comes here, nor any violent thing;
Never a weasel or pole-cat is seen—
Only the kingfisher’s bejewelled wing,
The blackbird’s mouth of gold, or linnets green
As summer trees.
Young rabbits play between High-arching roots,
sometimes a hare will spring Cautiously among high ferns that screen The fieldward track, and crouch there nibbling
And sometimes in long days of summer heat Hill cattle come, fly-driven to the shade From arid pastures where the fierce rays beat Upon bleached sedge, the land is overlaid With shimmering haze. Into the pool they wade And stand knee-deep in water, burning feet Cooled there, they drink while gleams of jade And iridescent amber ripple and meet
Over this shining pool the seasons pass Lazily: the trees turn brown again Through months of merging colour; in the grass Spring flowers yet linger at the summer’s wane; The scarlet kerns December’s darkness stain Till January brings catkins; or a mass Of honeysuckle scents October rain; After nuts fall the icicles clink like glass,
Here let no mortal tread, save only they Who know the secret ways of wood and stream, For whom the heart of earth beats quick and gay Through winter storms as in the sun’s warm beam: But these shall come at will, and mix their dream With leaves and waters and wild folk at play Until the pale and flickering lights shall seem Part of that glow within the light of day
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5. |
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Hie ad gys y ghlion ec Ballacomaaish
Shoh yn lhondoo jannoo e edd
Caddil oo lhiannoo hig sheeaghyn troailtagh orrin
Bee dty host nish ta mee geamagh er’n ushag
They went to the glen at Ballacomaaish
There the blackbird was making his nest
Sleep little one, the travelling fairies are coming
Quiet now, I am calling to the bird
V2 Glen Rushen- hawk
V3 Spanish Head- gull
V4 Gordon- wren
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6. |
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Yn Isabel foalsey, t'ee boirey mee hene
As kyndagh ree ta mee gaase fioghit as creen
Lesh sooree as breagey as ginsh reddyn bwaagh
As gialdyn nagh jean ee chooilleeney dy bragh
Ny keayrtyn t'ee gearey, as jannoo jeem spoyrt
As eisht keayrtyn elley dy graihagh rhym loayrt
Myr shoh ta shin dellal, cur shaghey yn traa
Veih traa lhie ayns yn oie dys peesh veg dy laa
Ny keayrtyn gowym daanys, as geddyn voee kiss
As eisht nee ee gra rhyms t'ou maarliagh gyn-ys
Nee shoh shin dys focklyn as eisht gowmayd cooish
Veagh tassane dy chowag ain realtagh shin dooisht
Tammylt ny lurg shen cheet feiyr mygeayrt y thie
Veagh s'liooar ny agglagh ny sleih ta ny lhie
Beem oolee as craa ny hoie heer ec yn aile
Eer sooie ta cloie cooyl yn grainle
Dy smooinaght er sooree t'eh cur orrym craa
Dy ve dooisht fud ny hoie as skee feiyn laa
Nagh bare dou ve laccal ben choud as vee'm bio
Ny ve boirit as eiyrit as heaghnit myr shoh
Agh nish ta mee fakin y seaghyn va aym
Ta mee booiagh ginsh eh magh da dagh unnane
Dy vod ad goaill tastey as voish sooreee chea
Ayns aght ennagh s'assey dy leeideil nyn mea!
(Paraphrased)
False Isabel is troubling me, leaving me faded and withered with her courting, Lying, saying pretty things and making promises Sometimes she’s laughing and teasing, Other times speaking lovingly, This is how we spend our time from dusk till dawn Sometimes I’ll be bold and steal a kiss... with all the fuss we’ll wake the household! Thinking about courting is driving me mad, It’s not worth the trouble- take my advice and find an easier way to live!
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( I hesitate to translate the traditional words collected by Moore from Mrs Ferrier of Castletown and rationalised by Colin Jerry, set here as the second verse. The central theme seems to be that various women are being exhorted to run from some sort of trouble, from which I have extrapolated my own story, imagining some troublesome Vikings)
Ve er ny mraane roie ersooyl cragherderyn er nyn ghooyl
Ve er ny mraane roie ersooyl, ersooyl gys y Niar!
(The women had to run, invaders on their heels The women had to run, away to the East)
Roie ben Juan Tammy!
Roie ben jeh’n eirey!
Roie mraane phoosee,
aeg as shenn
Ny reddyn birragh
cha row ny waddle
drim a doo doddle
re spittag beg
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8. |
Long Grass
03:12
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Running, we are running, we are running in the long grass
And our hearts are pounding and we know we may not find her
Looking in the ditches, in the hedges and the hollows
Searching for the trail you left that nobody follows
As evening falls and we grow hoarse we look around us
Emptied of hope we set our course, the search was boundless
Heading for home, our heads held low, maybe you’re waiting?
We fail to conjure you with our anticipating
All through the night, the wind blows, the dogs howl You hold on tight, till the morning light, till the morning light
Running, you are running, you are running in the long grass
And your heart is pounding and you know that you will find us
Jumping over hollows over hedges and ditches
Soon you will be home with your own three witches
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9. |
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Ta Cashin ersooyl gys yn aarkey
Va shen yn delight echey rieau
Ta'n ben echey faagit gyn cooney
As y thie ersooyl lesh yn geay x2
Cre'n fa t'eh goll magh dy kinjagh
Cre'n fa nagh vel cooney 'sy thie?
Nagh vel shen gollrish deiney,
Scaapail voish obbyr creoi
Cashin is away to the ocean,
that was ever his delight
His wife is left without help
and the house away with the wind
Why does he always go out,
why not help in the house?
Isn’t that just like men,
escaping from hard work!
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Clash Vooar Isle of Man
Clash Vooar is Manx Gaelic for ‘Big Groove’. Their music has Manx language and culture at its heart, but reaches out to include a wide range of styles and influences telling old and new stories from the Isle of Man with soul, energy and originality.
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