Mo Ghile Mear lyrics
by Mary BlackMusic Video
      Sé mo laoch mo Ghile Mear
      Sé mo Chaesar, Ghile Mear,
      Ní fhuaras féin aon suan ar séan  
Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear
Bimse buan ar buairt gach lo 
      Ag gui go crua 's ag tuar na ndeor 
      Mar scaoileadh uainn an buachaill beo
      'S ná riomhtar tuairisc uaidh, mo bhron
      Sé mo laoch mo Ghile Mear
      Sé mo Chaesar, Ghile Mear,
      Ní fhuaras féin aon suan ar séan  
      Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear
Ni haoibhinn cuach ba suairc ar ndeoin
      Taid fiorchaoin uasal ar uaithne sport 
      Taid saoite suaite i mhuairt 's i mbron
      Ó scaoileadh uainn an buachaill beo
      Sé mo laoch mo Ghile Mear
      Sé mo Chaesar, Ghile Mear,
      Ní fhuaras féin aon suan ar séan  
      Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear
 Nil seis go suairc ar chruachruit ceoil 
      Ta an eigse i ngruaim gan uaim na meabhair 
      Taid beathaithe buan ar buairt gach lo 
      Ó thearnaigh uainn an buachaill beo 
      Sé mo laoch mo Ghile Mear
      Sé mo Chaesar, Ghile Mear,
      Ní fhuaras féin aon suan ar séan  
      Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear
Ní mhaoifad fein ce he mo stor 
      Ta insint sceal ina dhiaigh go leor 
      Ach guim chuigh m'aon mhic de ná gcomhacht
      Go dteigh mo laoch gan baol beo
      Sé mo laoch mo Ghile Mear
      Sé mo Chaesar, Ghile Mear,
      Ní fhuaras féin aon suan ar séan  
Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear
Mo Ghile Mear - Song Details

Lyrics: Poem by Seán Clárach Mac Domhnaill (1691-1754) - born in Churchtown, County Cork, Ireland... read more at Wikipedia
Music: Traditional
Circa: 18th Century
Brief: The song is written in Irish and is a lament by the Gaelic goddess Éire for Bonnie Prince Charlie, who was then in exile. The following is an excerpt from Wikipedia:
In this poem the poet personifies Éire/Ireland, the country itself, as a woman who once was a fair maiden but is now a widow. Her husband, the "Gallant Boy", is not dead but far away. As a consequence the land is failing and nature itself is in decline...wikipedia.org/wiki/Mo_Ghile_MearHere is another excerpt by artist Matthew Schwartz (AKA Spadecaller) who featured the video above. He has this to say:
This song, performed by Mary Black, is an Irish tribute to the "Great Pretender", Bonnie Prince Charlie, the descendant of Mary Stewart, Queen of Scots who had sought to sit on the throne of Britian. To put an end to religious persecution in Scotland, occupied Ireland, Wales, and England his loyal followers of the Jacobite movement fought for him to take possession of the crown. The Jacobite rebellion (1745) was put down and hundreds of thousands died in battle under unsurmountable odds. Under secrecy, the prince fled to the continent and died in exile...youtube.com
Genre: Irish Folk Song, Political, Soldiering, 18th century
Covers: Orla Fallon, Celtic Woman, Sting & The Chieftans, Deirbhile Ní Bhrolcháin, Pádraigín Ní Uallacháin, Celtic Thunder, Sibeal, Susan McCann and Liam O Maonlai, Annmarie O'Riordan, Brid O Riordan, Donal Lunny and many more.
Featured Artist: Mary Black
Album: Collected
Released: 1984
Country: Ireland
Format: CD
Label: Dara Records
Mo Ghile Mear - English lyrics
Chorus
   He's my champion my Gallant Darling,
   He's my Caesar, a Gallant Darling,
   I've found neither rest nor fortune
Since my Gallant Darling went far away.
Once I was gentle maiden,
   But now I'm a spent, worn-out widow,
   My consort strongly plowing the waves,
   Over the hills and far away.
Every day I'm constantly enduring grief,
   Weeping bitterly and shedding tears,
   Because my lively lad has left me
   And no news is told of him - alas.
The cuckoo doesn't sing cheerfully after noon,
   And the sound of hounds isn't heard in the nut-tree woods,
   Nor a summer morning in a misty glen
   Since  my lively boy went away from me.
Gallant young horseman
   An appearance without worry or care
   A grip thats sure and quick in battle
   Leading the crowd and making us strong
Play a tune on music harps
   Fill the quart measures on the table
   With high intention, straight and unclouded
   That life and health will be had by my lion
Gallant Darling for a while under sorrow,
   And Ireland completely under black cloaks;
   I have found neither rest nor fortune
   Since my Gallant Darling went far away.
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