An Teach Uaigneach / The Lonely House.
Fonn: Ar Éireann Ní Neosfainn Cé Hí
Údar: Dave Barron

An Teach Uaigneach / The Lonely House.
Fonn: Ar Éireann Ní Neosfainn Cé Hí
Údar: Dave Barron

Níos mó teaghlach ná teach
Áit a raibh my theaghlaigh sonasach,
Anois tá siad scaipthe thar domhain
Is mise briste, tréighthe ‘gus gann.

Tráth clúdaigh mo dhíon uilig,
Anois briste agus maoil do’n spéir,
Gan rabharta nó tuí cor ar bith,
Dealg is eidhneán go barr mo shimléir.

Mo bhallai a bhi láidir is daingean
‘Nois ag mionú mar cnámha lag, fann;
Guth mo ghaoith siorradh, sonasach
Anois caointeach, uaigneach, brónach.

Ní chloisim ach fuaimeanna ciúnas,
Múr báisteach ‘gus caoineadh gaoithe,
Gáire taibhsiúil ó uair an tsonais,
M’olagón féin do’n uair anuas.

Mo fhuinneoga briste is scriosta,
Súile dall gan radharc do’n spéir,
Iad a bhí lonnrach, lonnagh, gléiste
Mar súile glégeal mo leanbhaí gleoite.

Mo theallach inniu folamh, fuar,
A bhí croí dearglach an teaghlach;
Mo shimhléir le deatach móna
Anois ach leach uaigh do’n beocht.

Bhí mé tráth I’m theaghlach spleodrach
Le clainne lán sonasach;
Anois, iad ar aistear eisimirce
Is mise folamh, reo, uaigneach.

Féach ar ‘The Lonely House’ do’n leagan Béarla.

I once was a house, more a home,
Where my families felt safe and secure;
Now they’re scattered all over the globe
And I’m left here lone, broken and poor.

My roof that once sheltered them all
Now lies broken and bare to the sky;
No rafter or thatch now at all,
Thorn and ivy grow chimney stack high.

My walls once were sturdy and strong,
Now they’re crumbling, like old broken bones;
One time whistling the family song,
Now the wínd whines, so lonely: sorrow!

Sounds of silence are all I can hear,
Hiss of rain and sad wind as it sighs,
Ghostly laughter of times I hold dear,
My own groans for my lost times of joy.

My windows are shattered and gone,
Poor, blind, sightless eyes to the sky;
Long ago they glistened and shone
Like my children’s bright eyes inside.

My hearth now lies empty and cold
Where once my fire glowed so bright;
My chimney where once warm smoke flowed,
Now a tombstone for times long gone by.

Yes, I once was a home, a warm place
Where my families enjoyed happy days;
Now they’ve parted and gone their own ways
And I’m cold here, a lonely old place.

Ar fud na hÉireann feicimid tithe folmha, tréigthe a bhí ina dtithe te agus compordacha do na glúnta teaghlaigh tráth. Tá an imirce tar éis na tithe sin a fholmhú dá n-anamacha beo, agus iad a fhágáil mar mheabhrúcháin folamh, amú ar shaol atá imithe le fada. Samhlaigh dá bhféadfadh na fothracha sin a gcuid scéalta a labhairt agus a insint dúinn

All over Ireland we can see empty, derelict houses that once were warm and comfortable homes to generations of families. Emigration has emptied those houses of their living souls, leaving them as vacant, wasted reminders of lives long gone. Imagine if those ruins could talk and tell us of their stories!