Happy on the Heights

 

There are plenty of sad Irish and Highland love songs, but here are two beautifully serene happy love songs that are worth writing home about

Both originate in the same general area, but I don’t think it’s actually the air or water there or something like that. The easy happiness partly arises from the fact that both are “summer songs” based on  sheiling life.

Every summer, many young women would go with the cows up into the high country so the cows could graze there on the summer grass, and they themselves would make butter and cheese from all the sweet milk Each township or kin group had its own area of mountain. It sounds like it was a happy time: long days camping (almost camping) in huts at the top of the world, and young men would come to visit…

Braighe Lochiall (The High Country of Locheil) is west from Fort William: Cameron country. Nothing much is known about the song, but part of its glorious, happy greatness arises from the marriage of words and music. My translation has nothing of that, but here are to links to take to places you can hear the song sung.

 

Chorus:

I will go, oh, I will go,

I will go over

to the riverside meadow where the cows are,

to where I knew a girl.

 

(O theid, 's gun teid,

o theid mi thairis

go innis nam bo,

far an b'eol dhomh an ainnir.)

 

To the riverside meadows where the cows are,

to where I knew a girl,

to the High Country of Locheil

where the deer often bell.

 

and the little roe deer of the high peaks,

nimble and agile.

 

Woman with the smooth hair,

I gave you my promise.

 

My promise that will not fail

though we were forced to part.

 

A married woman's kerchief would suit you well,

pinned up at each side.

 

About the flawless face,

your blue eyes enticing.

 

Many a time we have been

in the sheiling in the glen,

 

in a little snug hut

with no door but brushwood

 

You're are skilled raising the calves

and gentleness was your way always.

 

When we would go to sleep,

our fire would not yet have died down.

 

My side by your side,

and we were tender-hearted and affectionate.

 

I will go,

oh, I will go.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nE9oUITy-AQ#ddg-play

 

Here is a link to the song being sung, from the great Tobar a' Dualchais site. Hit the "play arrow on the left.

 

http://www.tobarandualchais.co.uk/en/fullrecord/26183/2

 

 

The second song is Bothan Airigh Am Braighe Raithneach (A Sheiling Hut in the High Country of Rannoch.) Rannoch is the most remote western highland part of Perthshire and borders the Cameron country of Loch Iall, the Lochaber MacDonalds country, etc. Today, like Braighe Loch Iall, it is almost empty, with almost no indigenous families left there.

Gur e m’ anam is m’eudail
chaidh an-dè do Ghleann Garadh:
fear na gruaig’ mar an t-òr
is nam pòg air bhlas meala.

 

My dearest love and treasure  

Went yesterday to Glengarry:

Man with hair like gold,

He whose kiss tastes of honey

 

(Just so you know, at one point in Middle Irish, the relative of the verb to be, “gur”, was sometimes used as “tá” is, and this is still common in older Scottish Gaelic poetry and song.)

Chorus

O hi ò o hu ò, o hi ò o hu ò,
Hi rì ri ò hu èileadh
O hì ri ri ri ò gheallaibh ò

‘S tu as fheàrr dhan tig deise
de na sheasadh air talamh;
‘s tu as fheàrr dhan tig culaidh
de na chunna mi dh’ fhearaibh.

 

(You are the one whom fine clothes suit

Better than all who stand on earth:

You are the one whom a suit of clothes fit

Better than any man I ever saw

‘S tu as fheàrr dhan tig osan
is bròg shocrach nam barrall:
còta Lunnainneach dubh-ghorm,
‘s bidh na crùintean ga cheannach.

 

She likes his high socks and fine shoes, and his dark blue jacket of London cloth that cost lots of money

An uair a ruigeadh tu ‘n fhèill
is e mo ghèar-sa a thig dhachaigh;
mo chriosan is mo chìre
is mo stìomag chaol cheangail.

 

He buys her nice gifts at the fair.

Thig mo chrios à Dùn Eideann
is mo bhrèid à Dùn Chailleann,
gheibh sinn crodh às a’ Mhaorainn
agus caoraich à Gallaibh.

 

My belt s from Edinburgh, (she says)

And my plaid from Dun C:

We will get cows from Moray (?)

And sheep from Galloway.

 

(Both places are far away)

‘S ann a bhios sinn ‘gan àrach
air àirigh am Bràigh Raithneach.
ann am bòthan an t-sùgraidh
is gur e bu dùnadh dha barrach.

 

And it’s where we will pasture them,

At the sheilings in B. R.:

At the hut where we courted,

No door to it but branches.

Bidh a’ chuthag ‘s a smùdan
a’ gabhail ciùil duinn air chrannaibh;
bidh an damh donn ‘s a bhùireadh
gar dùsgadh sa mhadainn.

 

The cuckoo and the ring dove

Will sing to us on the tree branches:

The brown stag’s lowing

Will wake us in the morning.

 

Yes, but before you click off in disgust, please listen to the song as it’s sung. A song is much more than the words alone.