Ár gCultúr Beo / Our Living Culture
Air: Oro Se do Bheatha Abhaile
Author: D. Barron
Singers: Carlow Storytellers
Theme: Pride in our native culture
Location: County Carlow
CHORUS
Óro, Ár gcultúr gleoite, (our beautiful culture)
Óro, our culture’s growing,
Óro, ár gcultúr beomhar, (our living culture)
Alive and beo in Carlow. (well)
They tried to take our culture from us,
Tried to force their culture on us;
But our fathers placed a geasa on us: (obligation)
To save our ancient ways.
CHORUS
They told us that we had to change,
To leave our past on a previous page;
But we’ll save our ways for the coming age:
We’ll save our ancient ways.
CHORUS
The rambling house was the place to meet
But in recent years its fate looked bleak;
Some kept our old Way’s heart abeat
And saved our ancient ways.
CHORUS
They thought we’d fade with modern fashions
We love our culture with great passion;
We’ll always care for our great tradition
And we’ll save our ancient ways.
CHORUS
________________________
The Celtic Irish oral tradition of music and song has faced many challenges to its survival, from Penal Laws to changing trends and fashions. At one time mocked and derided, it was always kept alive in the rambling houses and by people who loved their traditions. Now, the ancient culture is growing strong again, not only holding its own but growing in popularity.
The song Óro, Sé Do Bheatha ‘Bhaile was about restoration of freedom and culture; it seems appropriate to match these words with the old melody.
D. Barron
From Carlow Streams
Senses and Soul
Author: D. Barron
Air: Táim i mo Shuí
Táim i mo Shuí: I am sitting. The pace and complexity of our modern world is often too much for us. The distress and strain of life fragments our sense of wellbeingng; our human nature is dismembered. We are unhappy and discontented. We need to make time for ourselves to recreate our selves, in all our human potential and richness. We need to sit, to take time to allow our human nature reconnect with God’s Nature, to allow Nature to restore us towards our full humanity.
Lyrics:
When the scream of the city has dazzled and frazzled my brain
And the strain and distress everyday seems just the same
I return to Nature seeking escape from the race
And make time for my mind to refind my senses and soul.
When my eyes are scarred by the grasp of the screen’s gaudy glare,
Tv, PC, iPhone and iPad all reign the same,
My eyes seek the green, the azure, the purple, the grey
And make time for my mind to refind my senses and soul.
When my ears are numbed by the drum of the city’s loud wail
And the voices all talking at me are dazing my brain
I long for the whisper of wind or the lapping of lake
And make time for my mind to refind my senses and soul.
When the fumes of the city pollute my nostrils and skin
And the stench seems to ooze from every pore in my being
I seek the embrace of wild wave or high mountain wind
And make time for my mind to refind my senses and soul.
Dave Barron
From Carlow Streams
Richard Breen
Boatmen that Are Gone
Author: Kit Ennis
Singer: Tony Malone
Theme: Local Event
Location: West Carlow, Barrow The title says it all: looking back at a way of life and of work that are gone, the Barrow boys are no more. The author, Kit Ennis, was a lock keeper at Tinnahinch lock (Graiguenamanagh) in the 1920s.
The Boatmen That Are Gone
Now the Grand Canal is just the same old winding waterway
But it’s old time navigators are now moldering in the clay
Those gentle old world boatmen who sailed those waters o’er
They have departed on a voyage from which they’ll come no more
Though they are gone they’ve left us a memory sweet to save
While summer breezes whisper round their narrow silent graves
May they be with their Master and Heaven’s light shine on
Those one time hardy sons of toil the boatmen that are gone.
Out on that dreary Grand Canal when winter wind did blow
And swept before it’s icy blast the frozen flakes of snow
When others could lie down and sleep, tucked warmly in their bed
The poor old boatman got no chance to rest his weary head
And through the cold dark winter night out in snow and rain
No shelter on their watery way, each side an open plain
Exposed to all the elements they worked their boats along
And kept their drooping spirits up with a good old Irish song.
With hearts within their bosom that knew no art or guile
With honest faces that always bore a kindly welcome smile
Hearts that will never beat again, may the clay lie lightly on
Those poor toil worn bodies of the boatmen that are gone
Their lonesome cold and bitter life with cheerful hearts they bore
And for their loved ones left at home no men could suffer more
‘Till Saint Michael sounds his final call we cannot look upon
Th e faces of those friends of ours the boatmen that are gone.
I miss each old familiar face that has been cut away
Like the bloom of early summer that autumn winds decay
Their sins against the Father e’er He on them did call
Th e lives they led on earth may they atone for all
Now all you men you men who boat, remember ever more
You’ll sail out on that same old track your father sailed before
And just like them will come the day for you to sail out on
That trip from which there’s no return, like the boatmen that are gone.
Goodbye to Carlow Town
Themes: Love, patriotism, hero. Ballad about Carlow town in which a woman's lover dies in the fight for Ireland's liberty. Written by S. McCarthy
Town, hero, love
Sung by Damien Brett
From Carlow Streams
Richard Breen
Ballad books
English
Grá Faoi Bhláth
Love song
Love song, sung by Lisa Butler
From Carlow Streams
Richard Breen
Recording
A Visit to the Singers’ Club,
Author: Mikey Byrne
Theme: Local event and characters
Location: Carlow town
Mikey visited the Singers' Club in Carlow and wrote this afterwards
Mikey Byrne Collection
From Carlow Streams
Richard Breen
The Seed in the Soil
Author: D. Barron
Air: THUGAMAR FÉIN AN SAMHRADH LINN
Performed by the Carlow Storytellers
The traditional air is a celebration of summer. The new words seek to reflect and celebrate all four seasons in their ongoing cycles of the Natural world.
Lyrics:
The seed in the soil creeps up to the light
Seeking new life in Springtime cold;
The slow beat of life shows green, shows white,
Growing new buds in flower and grove.
The flower, bud and leaf then burst into life,
Pulsing with sap as Springtime thrives;
The riot of life leaps up to the sky;
Lush life from the sun; bees fill hives.
In full Summer bloom all Nature’s in tune,
God’s bounty fills each vale and hill;
All fish, flesh and fowl, bole, branch and flower
Thrill to the sound of stream and rill.
And when Autumn’s here the earth’s in good cheer
Sharing its wealth of fruit and grain;
The barns all full, the year’s nearly done,
God’s gifts replenished all again.
In late Autumn sun the earth’s work is done,
Energy spent, it’s time to sleep;
The leaves and flowers return to their bowers,
Feed for the seeds in Winter’s keep.
From Carlow Streams
Richard Breen
The Martyrdom of Kevin Barry,
Author: M.C. Nolan
Air: The Foggy Dew
Singer 1: Paddy Lawless, Borris
Singer 2: Paddy Lawless
Theme: Hero, patriotic martyr
Location: Carlow County
Another song in praise of Kevin Barry, written by MCN of Borris
Nano's Song
Author: D. Barron
Air: Sé Mo Laoch (Mo Ghiolla Mear)
Sung by Mary Butler
Theme: hero, love, family hopes.
Se Mo Laoch is a song about heroes. Heroes give us joy and pride and hope: we celebrate with joy at their victories; we take pride in their deeds; we take hope from their potential to overcome adver-sity. Grandchildren also bring those gifts of joy, pride and hope to grandparents. Having experi-enced what’s important in life, grandparents wish fulfillment and contentment for their grandchildren. This happiness can be found through caring and fulfilling relationships, something all humans need and that grandparents wish for their grandchildren.
It is fitting that the traditional air be given these new words about its original theme.
Dado’s**** Song ( Amhran Daideo)
Chorus
Gasúin Óg* you melt my heart;
Torthaí glúine imithe, thart**;
Bring me joy and pride and hope;
Síol na nglúine le teacht fós***.
Cailín Óg, you light my life,
Beaming through the fog of life,
Piercing gloom with your coy smile,
Charming my old heart with joy.
Find a man who’s true to you;
Together see life’s voyage through;
Be aware of both your needs,
May ‘Fulfill each other’ be your creed.
Chorus
Buachaill Óg, you are my pride,
Strong in limb and swift in mind;
You are the minder of our blood:
Grow wise and brave, be kind, be good.
Find a wife, respect her well,
Avoid the loud and gaudy girls;
Keep her safe, make her smile;
Meet both your needs, all the while.
Chorus
May old age see you safe and sound
With friends and family all around,
Admiring all you have achieved,
And your heart content with all your deeds
Gasúin Og, you bring me hope
That age is more than tattered coat;
I will be more than old scarecrow:
My ageing heart restores its glow.
Chorus
*Young Children
**Fruits of generations gone, finished
***Seed of generations still to come
**** Daideo, ‘Dado’ = Grandfather
From Carlow Streams
An Londubh is an Céirseach
Singer: Lisa Butler
One of the traditional love songs from the native culture,
Theme: Love.
AN LONDUBH IS AN CHÉIRSEACH (scroll down for translation)
Tá an londubh is an chéirseach, is an fhuiseoigín le chéile,
Is an smóilín binn bréagach ina ndiaidh i ngach aird,
An chuach i measc an méid sin ag seinm dánta is dréachta
Do chúl trom tais na bpéarlaí is do mo chéad míle grá.
Dá mbeinnse i mo smóilín do leanfainn tríd an mhóin í,
Mar is ise bláth na hóige a thógfadh suas mo chroí.
Ó bheinnse ag seinm ceoil dí ó mhaidin go tráthnóna,
Le ceiliúr binn á cealgadh is le móráil dá gnaoi.
Is trua gan mé is mo shiúirín is barr mo láimhe dlúth léi,
Go seinnfinn di go súgach ar cheolchruit go sámh;
A lao, nárbh aoibhinn domsa dá bhfaighinnse cead bheith ag siúl léi,
Is a rún mo chroí, bí ag súil liom le héirí don lá.
The Blackbird and the Song Thrush
The blackbird and the song thrush and the little lark together,
And the sweet voiced little thrush following them every way,
The cuckoo among them playing poems and little ditties
To your damp pearly hair for you are my first love.
Were I a little thrush I'd follow her through the meadow,
For she is the bloom of youth who would lift up my heart.
O I'd be playing music for her from morning to evening,
With a sweet melody celebrating her and praising her looks.
'Tis a pity I'm not her little sister and the top of my hand tight in hers,
That I as if drunk might play for her on a tuneful harp with gentleness;
My darling, wouldn't it be my delight if I'd be allowed to walk beside her,
And, o you love of my heart, be waiting for me as the day is dawning.
From Carlow Streams