Gaelic Poetry & Song | Early Shinty
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Gaelic Poetry & Song | Early Shinty (Title Unknown) - Eoghain MacGhilliosa (Ewan Gillies) Describes shinty being played to celebrate the New Year, likely before the game became more organised. Nuair thig bliadhn’ ùr oirnn, When comes the New Year, bi’ buidheann lùthor an agile band a’ cluich nan dùlain will engage in the challenge air aodann lòm; on a close-cropped plain le darach làidir with stout “oaks” an làimh gach armainn, in the hands of every stalwart, ’s e cur na bàrach scoring goals gu làidir teòm. with strength and skill. - Hugh Dan MacLennan, Shinty Dies Hard, PhD Thesis (Aberdeen, 1998) Camanachd gur roghadh spòrs e - Shinty is the sport of choice Camanachd gur roghadh spòrs e Shinty is the sport of choice Àm a’ gheamhraidh is tùs an earraich In wintertime and early spring Mach ’san achadh ’s gillean greannmhor Out in the field with lively lads An deagh ghleus ri cluich cho annamh, In good trim to play so rarely, Nach camanachd bu dual d’ar sinnsir, Was not shinty the custom of our ancestors, Ag iomain bhall air Là Callainn, Playing shinty on New Year’s Day, C'àit ’eil coimeas ris ’san Eòrpa, Where is its like in the whole of Europe? H-uile fear cho eudmhor ealamh Every man so zealous and swift Dol ga dhubhlan bhuidhinn tadhail. Meeting the challenges of visiting groups. - Hugh Dan MacLennan, Shinty Dies Hard, PhD Thesis (Aberdeen, 1998) - Angus Morrison, Dàin is Oran (1930) Irish Shinty Verse P.J. Devlin - Irish Journalist - Pen Name, ‘The Celt’, in the Freeman’s Journal. Ni binne glóir mo chamain fhéin More sweet the face of my own stick na guth nan eun no cèol nam bàrd; than voice of birds or music of bards; ’s ni binne fuaim air bith fo ’n ghrèin and nothing, under sun, so sweetly sounds no pòc air ghleus a liathroid àird. as a smack with skill on a lofty ball. - Hugh Dan MacLennan, Shinty Dies Hard, PhD Thesis (Aberdeen, 1998) 1 Sheas Mi Car Tamuill - A. Crawford Sheas mi car tamuill I stood awhile Le ioghnadh gun smalan, Pleasantly surprised a’ coimhead nan fearaibh Watching the men Le ’n camain chruaidh ùr; With their hard new shinty sticks; Gaoth tuath is clach-mheallain North wind and hail ’Gam bualadh ’s na caraibh; Beating on them; Bha ’chuideachd cho dannair So resolute a group were they ’S nach aithnicht’ orr mùth’. That it made no difference to them. Laoich chalma le ’n camain Sturdy heroes with their camans ’Gan dearbhadh ’s gach bealach, In action everywhere Laoich eutrom ’s na caraibh Heroes lightly moving Mar cheathach nan stúc; Like the mist of the peaks; Cur ball anns an athair The ball in the air Le luthas na dealain, With the speed of lightening ’Nuair gheibh i ri spealladh When it scythes its way Ri talamh ‘toirt cùil. To the ground Gur bòidheach an treud iad A fine-looking band of men Air faiche le chéile, On the field together ’S iad ruith mar na fèidh Running like deer Air slèibh nam beann àrd; On the high mountain slopes; A rèir cumha an fhèidhe Like the roar of the deer Bha mactalla ag èigheach; Echoes resounded; Sud ’nis, òlaich threubach, There they are, gallant lads Nach gèilleadh gu bràth. Who would never yield. O ’n dualas a lean ribh From inherited character O ghuaillibh ’ur seanair, From the shoulders of your grandfathers Bhiodh cruadalachd daingeann A strong hardiness Nis leanachd ri ’n àl; Would now follow on to the young generation; Ard-inntinneach fearail, Proud and manly. Foinnidh, fuasgailte, fallainn; Hands are nimble and healthy; Bhiodh suathadh de ‘n fhallus The sweat of their brows Mu’n mhal’ air an tràigh. Mingling with the sand. - Hugh Dan MacLennan, Shinty: Some Fact and Fiction in the 19th Century, Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness LIX (1994-1996) 2 Thugainn a Dh’ Iomain (Come to Shinty) - Rann Iomainich (Shinty Rhyme) An Invitation to Shinty Cesit Question Freagairt Response Thugainn a dh’ iomain. Come to shinty. Ciod e ’n iomain? What shinty? Ioman chaman. Shinty of clubs. Ciod e ’n caman? What club? Caman iubhar. Clubs of yew. Dè ’n t-iubhar? What yew? Iubahr athair. Yew of air. Dè ’n t-athar? What air? Athar eòin. Air of bird. Dè ’n t-ian? What bird? Ian air iteig. Bird on wing. Dè ’n t-iteag? What wing? Iteag fithich. Raven’s wing. Dè fitheach? What raven? Fitheach feola Raven of flesh. Dè ’n fheol? What flesh? Feol dhaoine. Flesh of man. Dè na daoine? What men? Daoine naomha. Holy men. Dé naomh? What Holiness? Naomh eich. Holiness of Horse. Dè ’n t-each? What horse? Each braonach. Horse of water. Dè ’m braon? What water? Braon sleibhe. Water of hill. Dè ’n sliabh? What hill? Sliabh a mhachaire. Hill of machar. Dè ’m machair? What machar? Machair eisg. Machar of fish. Gu de ’n t-iasg? What fish? Iasg dubhan. Fish of hook. Gu de ’n dubhan? What hook? Dubhan beag briosgalach, brosgalach. A little bobbing, alluring (?) hook. A ghoid an Righ air a Bhanruinn. That the King stole from the Queen. Falbh fhein Go yourself Gearr leum Give a leap ’S thoir bhuaith e. And take it from him. Children’s Rimes from the Mss. of the Rev. Father Allan Macdonald, The Celtic Review, Vol. 8, No. 30 (Oct., 1912), p.166-167 3 Gaelic Poetry and Song: Laggan Cluith-bhall Chluainidh (early 19th century) - Donald Macpherson ’S i mhire ’chuir an Nollaig oirnn The sport we had at Christmas Cha d’ rinn i idir domail oirnn. Did not do us any harm. Bha subhachas, bha somaltas, There was merriment and abundance, Bha comunntas, mu’ n d’ fhalbh i. There was fellowship before it was over. Ceud buaidh ’Thighearna Chluaini! Success to the Laird of Cluny, Gur suairc’ an Ceann-cinnidh e; That generous chief, ’S e ’lionas na cuachan It is he who fills the drinking cups Do ’n tuath ’s do’n luchd leanmhuinn. For his tenants and followers. ’Nuair thairnear ’fheara cròdha When his hardy men are lead down Air cònard gu iomaineachd, To the field for camanachd Cha tig an seisean comhla, Such a band will not come together ’San ‘Eorp’, air son calmachd. In Europe for bravery. Gur luaith iad nan gluasaid They are faster in their movement Na ’n ruadh, anns na firichean, Than the deers on the moors, ’S na mial-choin ga ruagadh, Pursued by the hounds, Feadh chruachan is gharbhlach. Among the hills and rough bounds. Bidh grudairean sgìth The distillers will be tired ’Tarruinn sìth uisg nam feadanan; Drawing whiskey from the stills, Bidh gleadhraich air piosan There will be clinking of silver cups ’S ceòl phiob ann mu anmoch. And pipe music till late. Le suairceas ’s le ceòl, With generosity and with music, ’S tric an corn ga chur seachd ann; The drinking horn is oft passed round ’S tric slainte bhan oga Often the health of young women Ga ’n òl ann mu’ m falbh iad. Is drunk before they leave. Translation by R. Gibson and A. Smart. This poem and other great examples relating to shinty in Badenoch can be found as part of the Shinty History Project by Rosemary Gibson and Newtonmore Camanachd Club: http://newtonmoreshinty.co.uk/history/poetryandsong.html 4 Camanachd - Fionnlagh Baran (Finlay Baron) Bail a’ Ghobhainn (Balgown) Laggan (c.1880-1890) Chaidh mi ’n dè gu Blàragaidh Yesterday I went to Blargie ’S cha deach mi ann a dh’ain deoine, I didn’t go reluctantly ’S chunna mi h-uile bean-phòsda I saw every matron ’S gach caileag òg a b’ aithne dhomh. And young girl I knew. B’ e sin an gnothach taitneach It was a pleasing business Bhith bruidhinn ’s bhith ’g imeachd maille riu, Speaking and strolling with them, Ach gur e ’s mò thug spèis do m’ chridhe But what warmed my heart most Na gillean luath ’s na camanan. Was the swift boys and the camans. Bha cailean ann o Ceann an Loch, There were girls from Kinlochlaggan, Bha gruagiach ann o Cluanaidh There were lasses there from Cluny. Bha maighdeanan o Bail’ na Muic There were maidens from Balgown Gu busach mar is dual doibh. Pouting as usual. Bha cailean ann fo shùil an athar There were girls under their father’s eye Is cailean eile le ’n leannan, And others with their sweethearts, Ach ’s mò gu fad bu leamsa b’ fheàrr But what I preferred by far Na gillean cluidh aig camanachd. Was the lads playing shinty. Bha cailean ann an dreasan ghrinn There were girls there in pretty dresses Le adaichean is itean unnd, In hats with feathers in them, Le ’m falt ’na roll aig cùl an cinn With their hair in a roll behind their heads Is cìrean ambair sticeadh ann. And amber combs stuck in them. H-uile caileag riamh a th’ anns an sgìre Every girl who was ever in the district Ach ise ’s dlùth do m’ anam-sa Except the one who is close to my heart, Ach ’s beag a Rìgh chuir sin orm fhìn But that did not bother me ’S mi coimhead cluidh a’ chamanachd As I was watching the shinty. Bha mnàthan pòsd’ an sud le ’n daoin’ There were matrons there with their husbands ’S le ’n cloinn uile maille riu, And their children hindering them, Leighis Kung, gach duin’ bha tinn Di-h-aoin Dr Kung healed each one who was ill on Friday Is chaidh iad mach Di-Sathuirne.