"A Drover to His Sweetheart"/ Ged Is Socrach Mo Leabaidh - Rob Donn

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~The Songs of Rob Donn MacKay~
1714 - 1778
"A Drover to His Sweetheart"
When Rob Donn wrote this he was in Crieff, with cattle belonging to John MacKay of Musal.

Drine, the multimedia show, was commissioned by Taigh na Gàidhlig Mhealanais and performed at Celtic Connections 2014 to celebrate the bard's 300th anniversary. Talented Sutherland musicians, Suzanne Houston, Carol-Anne MacKay, Rhona Sutherland, Catriona MacLeod and James Graham invite singers from the area to perform with them a selection of the bard's best loved and lesser known songs.

~GED IS SOCRACH MO LEABAIDH~

Ged is socrach' mo leabaidh, ~Although my bed is comfortable
Cha ’n e ’n codal bh’ air m’ ùigh,~I did not want to sleep
'S tric mo smuaintean a’ gluasad,~Often my thoughts steal
Do ’n taobh tuath leis a’ ghaoith ;~On the wind towards the northern Highlands
’S mòr a b’ annsa bhi mar riut,~How much better I should prefer to be beside you
Ann an gleannan nan laogh,~In the little glen of the calves
Na bhi cunntadh nan Sàileach,~Than to be counting the Sàl cattle
Ann am pàirceachan Chraoibh.~In the parks of Crieff

’S mòr mo cheist air an nighean~Great is my question on the girl
A gheibhteadh cridheil ’s a’ spòrs~received cheerful and fun
I gun fhiaras gun àrdan~her without fever, without heights
’S i gun bhàith’ no gun phròis~she is without sin or pride
Ged a bhithinn air feallachd~ Although I would be treacherous
Is leth-cheud fear air mo thòir~ and fifty men in pursuit of me
Gheibhinn dion ann ad chùl-tigh~I would get protection in your home
’N uair bu dluith’ iad teachd oirnn~When they come upon us.

Bitheadh mi nis a’ dol dachaidh
Dh’ fheuch am faic mi bean t-àilt
Leamsa b’ aoibhinn bhi ’m fagus
Do ’n euchdaig leadanaich bhàin
B’ e mo roghann-s’ gu fiadhach,
A’ chreag riabhach ’s an t-Sàil,
’S an am an fheasgair ’g slaodadh,
Le Càrn-a’-phiobair a mhàn.



’S mòr mo cheist air a’ ghruagaich~Deep are my feelings for the lass
Le Càrn-a’-phiobair a mhàn. shuas do na Bhàrd,~who lives beyond the Bard,
Gheibht’ gu h-anmoch ’s a’ bhuaile,~who is to be found late in the fold
’N uair thigeadh ’m buar as gach àird~When the cattle would return from every airt.
’S mise fein nach tug fuath dhuit,~Indeed I had no aversion for you,
Ge fada uait tha mi ’n dràsd’,~Far distant though I am from you now.
’S tric a chaill mi mo shuain riut,~Often I lost my sleep on account of you,
’S bu mòr mo bhuannachd do phàg.~And great was the reward of your kiss

Fhleasgaich òig tha dol dachaigh,
'S tu nach acain mo chal,
Ged a dh'fhanainn sa bhaile s',
Gu àm tarraing nan crann;
Aonghais òig Mhic 'ic Alasdair,
Dèan-sa fanadh a-nall,
'S na cuir èis air ar comann
An dèidh gach gellaidh bha ann.


Ged is socrach' mo leabaidh,~Although my bed is comfortable
Cha ’n e ’n codal bh’ air m’ uigli,~I did not want to sleep
'S trie mo smuaintean a’ gluasad,~Often my thoughts steal
Do ’n taobh tuath leis a’ ghaoith ;~On the wind towards the northern Highlands
’S mòr a b’ annsa bhi mar-riut,~How much better I should prefer to be beside you
Ann an gleannan nan laogh,~In the little glen of the calves
Na bhi cunntadh nan Sàileach,~Than to be counting the Sàl cattle
Ann am pairceachan Chraoibh.~In the parks of Crieff

Translations from the late Dr. Ian Grimbal, from The Word of Robb Donn V.3

NLoS/ (1829 Songs & Poems In THe Gaelic Language)
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