From the recording Trad Linn - Roads of Clare
This song is likely about a spot near the head of the River Lee on the Beara Penninsula, Co. Cork. I originally heard it on a recording of Diarmuid Ó Súilleabháin. Thanks to his sister, Eibhlís, who sang this song at Sean Nós Milwaukee and who welcomed me at her home in the Muskerry Gaeltacht (Múscraí) in West Cork. A constant promoter of the Irish language and culture she founded Éigse Dhiarmuidín in her brother’s honor. This is a festival with classes in traditional Irish music usually held the first weekend in December. It is a great place to begin your journey into sean nós singing or to study at an advanced level www.eigsedhiarmuidin.ie
Nuair a éiríos féin ar maidin go moch
I bhfad amach sa bhFómhar,
Cé a chífinn chugam ach stór mo chroí
Is D’fhéach sí féin go fónta.
Mar do bhí sí siúd deas dearg is donn
Is a leacainn mar na rósaí
Nuair a fháisceas í go dlúth lem chro
‘Sé dúirt sí; “cá mbíonn tú id chónaí?”
As I roved out to view the plains
One pleasant morning early
Whom should I spy but a pretty fair maid
And she dressed up so neatly
Her rosie cheeks her ruby lips
Her eyes that would dazzle the daisies
When I took this fair maid by the hand
She said, “Young man go easy.”
Is treabhdóir mise go fónta ar mo cheird
Mar is maith atá ‘fhios ag ‘am chomharsain
Is mó páirc riamh do threabhas-sa féin
Gan mé bheith tinn ná leonta.
Mar do bhainfinn féar in íochtar cnoic
Do dhéanfainn cruach nó stáicín
Do rincfinn leat, a stór mo chroí,
Ar bhruach na Carraige Báine.
I am a ploughboy, the seed for to sew
And that is well known to my neighbors
It’s many‘s the field that I have ploughed
And that without much labor.
I would plow and sew both reap and mow
And gather it into your barn
I’d dance with you, my darling love,
On the banks of Carrraige Báine.
Do leathfainn fallaing duitse, a fhir óig,
Mura mbeadh ann ach leithead cianóige
Dá mbeadh ‘fhios agam go mbeifeá liom
Gan dabht tú féin do b’fhearr liom.
Ó gléasaigh suas, a óigfhir léan
Is gluais liom fhéin thar sáile,
Is treabhfaimid na cuanta doimhne
Ó bhruach na Carraige Báine.
I would spread my mantle for you, young man
If ‘twas only the breadth of a farthing
If I thought your mind was as good as your word
Why of course it’s you I’d rather
Awake arise my laboring boy
And come with me in the morning
And we will plough the briny waves
From the banks of Carraige Báine.