Pádraig Mac Ruairí – Piaras Ó Lorcáin

Canann Piaras Ó Lorcáin de bhunadh Chrois Mhic Lionnáin an t-amhrán ‘Pádraig Mac Ruairí’ a bhfuarthas ar Oileán Thoraí, oileán atá amach ó chósta na Gaeltachta in iarthuaisceart Dhún na nGall. D’fhoghlaim Piaras an t-amhrán ón amhránaí sean-nóis iomráiteach Dominic Mac Giolla Bhríde as Gaoth Dobhair, Co. Dhún na nGall. Rinne Dominic athbheochan ar an dán a bhí i bhfolach i sean-lámhscríbhínní agus chum sé fonn le dhul leis na liricí.

Canann Piaras trí véarsa as an amhrán. Tá liricí an amhráin ar fad thíosluaite le caoinchead ó Dominic Mac Giolla Bhríde.

Piaras Ó Lorcáin from Crossmaglen sings the song ‘Pádraig Mac Ruairí’ which originates from Tory Island off the west coast of Donegal. Piaras learned this song from the well-known sean-nós singer Dominic Mac Giolla Bhríde from Gaoth Dobhair, Co. Donegal. Dominic resurrected the poem from old manuscripts and brought life to it again by composing music to accompany the lyrics.

Piaras sings three verses of the song. The lyrics of the entire song are below, with permission from Dominic Mac Giolla Bhríde.

A Phádraig ‘ig Ruairí, a chorp an duine
uasail,
Go mairidh tú go buan in do shláinte;
Gur i dToraigh ó thuaidh tá deagh-mhac a’ tsuaircis
A mbíonn loingeas go buan aige ‘s bádaí.
Ní fá chladaigh go suarach ba mhian leis a bheith
‘gluaiseacht,
Acht ag tarraingt go cuantaí na Spáinne;
Tá ‘n cabhlach sa ruaig air, is a’ lámhach anuas leo,
‘S ní bheirfear i gcruaidhtean ar Phádraig.

Tá Paidi agus Éamonn Ó Dubhagáin na féile
Ag imtheacht araon un na Frainnce,
Tá’n slúp leobhtha gléastaí faoi n-a chuid éadaigh
Ag tarraingt fá fhíon agus brandaigh.
Cé ‘r bh’iongnadh linn Pádraig le earradh na Spáinne
Theacht chugainn ar sáile go cinnte,
‘S go bhfuil a chliamhain ag tráchtáil ag siubhail fríd
na náisiúin,
Ag déaláil le Spainnigh ‘s le Franncaigh.

Níl aon áit i Roinn Eórpa a mbí fairs’ngeacht is
foghnamh
Nach mbíonn againn i gcomhnuidhe in am amhgail
=amhgair;
Is coimrigh Ríogh ‘n Domhnaigh ‘r scoith na bhfear
cródha
Le linn gaoithe móire nó dáinséir.
Tá coirce agus eorna comh fáirsing le mónaidh
Aniar ó Ghaoth Dóir go dtí ‘n gleann seo;
Bhéarfaidh Pádraig go leor as Conndae Mhuigheo
‘S ní bhéidh orainn brón ins a’ tsamhradh.

Ar a thilleadh as géibhionn dí is ró-dheas a’ péarla,
Deallradh ón ghréin uirthi timcheall;
Nárbh aoibhinn an áit a bheith ag muileann na sclátaí,
Is ólfa muid ar sáith ann go cinnte.
Tá fáilte ag na céadtaí un a cában ar féasta,
Is í sínte ag an chéidh maidin shamhraidh;
Tiocfaidh chugainn ‘un a’ bhadhúin siúcra agus cláraí,
Lasta rum láidir, agus brandaigh.

Tá ‘n stór aici líonta de’n bheoraigh is daoire,
Rum, brandaigh, is fíontaí na Spáinne;
Tá bádaí na tíre ag tarraingt go líonmhar
Ag ceannacht ina saoirse ó Phádraig.
A Nansaigh tá’n chraobh leat i dToraigh go síorruidhe,
Is éireóchaidh an saoghal úr go breágh leat;
Níor lugha le Caitríona, bean Éamoinn a chroidhe
mhóir,
Nó ‘s aici tá aoibhneas na háite.

****************************************************
Oh Patrick Rogers, you fine noble man,
May you ever be healthy:
This fine son of mirth dwells in Tory to the north
Where he has a constant supply of ships and boats
He does not wish to meanly hug this shore
But rather to venture to the harbours of Spain;
The navy, with canon to the ready, pursue him,
But Patrick will never be captured.

Paddy and kindly Eamon Duggan
Are sailing together for France;
Their vessel’s sails are unfurled
As they search for wine and brandy
And we are not surprised in the least
That Patrick should return from the sea to us
Bearing good from Spain
As his son-in-law likewise trades in every nation
Dealing with the French and the Spaniards.

There is not a place of abundance or plenty in all of Europe
But they fetch from it to us in time of shortage;
And may the King of Sabbath protect these bravest of men
In times of mighty gale or peril.
Corn and barley are as plentiful as turf
From the east in Gaoth Dobhair to this valley;
Patrick will bring more still from County Mayo
And we shall not be doleful come the summer.

As she (the vessel) returns safely, she is a pearl to behold
As she glistens in the surrounding sunlight;
How wonderful to be at the slated mill
For it is there we shall truly drink our fill.
Hundreds are welcome to feast in the cabin
As she is moored at the quay on a summer’s morn;
To this stronghold sugar and claret will be brought to us
And a cargo of strong rum and brandy to boot.

Her hold is laden with ale most expensive;
Rum, brandy and the vintages of Spain.
Every boat in the country flocks
To buy duty free from Patrick.
Oh Nancy, in Tory, you surpass all others for all time
And this new married life will surely agree with you,
And Catherine, spouse of generous-hearted Eamon, is similar
For she is the merriest in all the place.

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