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Oran Bagraidh

by Various

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1.
Aobh cumar an eas dom, Aobh Bealach na Slogh, Aobh bruthaichean Beinn Beithich, Aobh an gleann’s an robh tu og. Trom dom maduinn an aon-la, Trom dom maduinn a’chro, Ni ro eirig air an eislig Caisteal caiseal a’chro. Nar ro geis anns a’chro, Nir bu geis anns a’chro, Far tu deanma bi mid diamain, Lagaidh ceudan diogailt linn. Buille beada gom borr, Goille grad beart doid, Com gun choluin sliochd na feannaig, Diogailt rindearg baradag sliom. Riam righfinnid air an Fianta, Ro-sar rath an rightech tu, Riam ruighean rath na righinn, Rogaid roighean tu ar righ, Saindsearc sighi sorcha seiti, Caimbeart cruthach calma ceannt, Supach suanach solma socrach, Ceudnach clota cleusta clit. Toinnti muinntir na dubhchos, Inn san draoinich’s ruigh raoin, Sloinnti cinneil sliochd a’mhaduidh, Cingdi cairpeach diaman saoidh. Bhite breacach Loch a’Barr, Bhite fiadhach Carrsa Fearn, Bhite brocach Gleann na Seamraig, Bhite fleaghtach an Dail Righ. Do bhi treilis donna dosrach Air an ruaghagh’s an do dail, Greaghan congail tochadh sgola Seirbhti sin an deireadh gnas. Tarpa sluagh na gruaigi ciar, Na cneas deathar cairti glas Dosguin ciripti teasmailt brianta Sosguin foirprig teanmaidh bragh.
2.
Ffeind a difyr ydyw gweled (Migldi magldi, hei now now) Drws yr efail yn agored (migldi magldi, hei now now) A'r go’ bach a'i wyneb purddu (Migldi Magldi, hei now now) Yn yr efail yn prysur chwythu (Migldi magldi, hei now now). Ffeind a difyr yn yr Alban (Migldi magldi, hei now now) Mai Trercarcow ’di Balmaclellan (migldi magldi, hei now now) Rhown i hen eiriau alaw newydd (Migldi Magldi, hei now now) ac i hen dôn mi rown adenydd (Migldi magldi, hei now now). Gairm féin gairm féin gairm féin Gairm féin Micil is Máire Gairm féin gairm féin gairm féin Sin iad na ceannabháin bhána Cuirfidh mé cuirfidh mé cuirfidh mé Cuirfidh mé suas ag Sadhbh Sheáin thú Cuirfidh mé cuirfidh mé cuirfidh mé Is cuirfidh sí buairthín sa ngleann ort Baile mo chrìdh’ ‘s i teannaicht’ ach grinn Baile mo chrìdh’ bho madainn gu oidhche Baile mo chrìdh’, ‘s i teannaich ach grinn A’ dol do dhùthaich eile Hòrò am baile mòr is hòrò mo chàirdean Hòrò am baile far an d’rugadh mi nam phàist’. (x2) B' fheàrr mar a bha mi 'n-uiridh Na mar tha mi 'm-bliadhna B' fheàrr mar a bha mi 'n-uiridh Fir a'tighinn gam iarraidh B' fheàrr mar a bha mi 'n-uiridh Na mar tha mi 'm-bliadhna B' fheàrr mar a bha mi 'n-uiridh Fir a' tighinn gam iarraidh
3.
Pais Dinogad, y fraith fraith; O grwyn balaod ban wraith. Chwîd, chwîd, chwidogaith. Gochanwn, gochenyn’ wythgaith. Pan elai dy dad di i helia, Llath ar ei ysgwydd, llory yn ei law, Ef gelwi gŵn gogyhwg: ‘Giff! Gaff! Daly, daly! Dwg, dwg!’ Ef lladdai bysg yng nghorwg Mal ban lladd llew llywiwg. Pan elai dy dad di i fynydd, Dyddygai ef ben iwrch, pen gwythwch, pen hydd, Pen grugiar fraith o fynydd, Pen pysg o Raeadr Derwennydd. O’r sawl a gyrhaeddai dy dad di â’i gigwain O wythwch a llewyrn a llwynain Nid angai oll ni fai oradain! English translation Dinogad’s smock, the speckled, speckled one; I made it out of the pelts of pine-martens. Whistle, whistle, whistle. We’ll sing and the eight servants will sing… When your daddy went a-hunting, a spear on his shoulder, a cudgel in his hand, he would call his dogs: ‘Giff! Gaff! Catch, catch! Fetch, fetch!’ He’d strike a fish in his coracle as a lion strikes a ‘llywiwg’. When your daddy went to the mountain he’d bring back a roebuck, a wild boar, a stag, a speckled grouse from the mountain, a fish from the Waterfall of Derwennydd. Of everything your daddy reached with his lance, wild boar and fox and creature of the wood, none escaped unless it had wings!
4.
Uryen Yrech6ydd. Urien of Erechwydd, haelaf dyn bedyd, most generous man in the world, llia6s a rodyd, you give much, y dynyon eluyd. to the people of the civilised world. Mal y kynnullud, As you gather, yt wesceryd. so do you scatter. Llawen beird bedyd Joyful are the poets of the world tra vo dy uuchyd, as long as you are alive, ys m6y llewenyd, greater is the joy gan clotuan clotryd, in the company of the famous hero, ys m6y gogonyant, greater is the glory vot Uryen ae plant. That Urien and his sons are alive. Ac ef yn arbennic, And he is the leader, yn oruchel wledic the exalted ruler, yn dinas pellenic, a refuge for the traveller, yn keimyat kynteic, a champion of the first rank, Lloegr6ys ae g6ydant, as the English know pan ymadrodant. when they chatter. Agheu a ga6ssant, They got death, a mynych godyant, and felt frequent wrath, llosci eu trefret, burning their settlements, a d6yn eu tudet, and taking their shelter, ac eim6nc collet, losing much, a ma6r aghyffret, and feeling much discomfort, heb gaffel g6aret with no chance of salvation rac Vryen Reget. before Urien of Rheged.
5.
Beannacht siar uaim go hÉirinn, críoch mín sleachta saoir-Fhéilim: buime ar n-oileamhna is í soin, ní doidhealbha í ar fhéchoin. Cúrfa Ì hòro is na hòro eile, bhuam as Albain dhut a mh’ eudaill Í hóro beir mo beannacht siar, siar go tír na hÉireann. Siar ó Albain na n-eas mbinn beannacht uaimse go hÉirinn: críoch bhreicmhín as mhín moighe, seintír mar thír tarngoire. Beannacht go baile Phádruig, Ard Mhacha am mhúir mhíonfhádbhuig, ‘sgo ríoghDhoire na sreabh seang, Treabh as líonmhaire léigheann. Le díoghrais go Dún na nGall Beannacht uaim arís anall: Sí shaoilim do fhóir mh’aicme, Róimh aoibhinn ar n-adhlaicne. English translation A blessing westward from me to Ireland, smooth land of the progeny of noble Féilim: she is the mother who nursed us; she is not uncomely to look upon. Chorus Ì hòro is na hòro eile, from Scotland to you, my dear Í hóro convey my blessing over, over to the country of Ireland. Westward from Scotland of the melodious waterfalls, a blessing from me to Ireland, smooth varied region with smooth plains, an ancient land like to the Land of Promise. A blessing to Patrick’s city, Armagh of the wall smooth and soft-sodded, and to royal Derry of the slender streams, a home where learning is most plentiful. To Donegal with sincerity I send a blessing or two again; pleasant sanctuary of our burial, he methinks it is that has helped my kindred.
6.
Och, a Erin, ó thréig tú do ghrá Go héag ó chuaigh tú le Guaire Do leannán sí, mo náire shaolta, Is ó chuaigh do chroí i bhfuaire, Rachaidh mé faoin gcoill nó sa má Mar nach bhfuil agam cuideachta ná gaolta. Is trua liom thú a gheilt ghairbh Ar an gconair ó thuaidh, Lá suas go go hÉadan Tairbh, Lá go meán Shliabh Fuaidh Ailiú éanaí ailiú éaraí Hoch teidí di éró Parúsam praedidilí Is mo lil na ló a ba bó I mbun seilge is fia Nó id leaba le do leannán Tú a bheith gan leann gan bhia Gan éadach gan bhróg mar dhán English translation Och, Erin McQueen, since you fadeabandoned your love fornumbdeathever since you went off with your balefulchronicsicklywhirlwindphantomlover and changed your name, to my greatworldy private-parts-shame, and since your heart has gone cold, I’ll go off aboutunder the castrationdesecrationwoods as an outlaw or in the Mazeplain for that’s where I have neither funcompanionship nor likerelations. My pity on you vulgar madman On the northern ridge A day up to Éadan Tarbh Another to the top of Sliabh Fuaidh Come down birdy; mad birdy Hoch teidí di éró Parúsam praedidilí Is mo lil na ló a ba bó Me hunting and tracking (your lands) Or in your bed with your wife You with neither ale or food Without cloth, without shoes, for a song
7.
Sabhal Iain ‘ic Ùisdein Iùraibh à, horaibh à B' aighearach an-uiridh mi Iùraibh à, horaibh à Sabhal Iain 'ic Ùisdein Iùraibh à, horaibh à B' aighearach an-uiridh mi Iùraibh à, horaibh à Sabhal Iain 'ic Ùisdein Pòg a Chalum an Rubha Pòg dhan a h-uile fear Pòg a Chalum an Rubha 'S a dh'fhear Rubha an Dùnain Pòg a Chalum an Rubha Pòg dhan a h-uile fear Pòg a Chalum an Rubha 'S a dh'fhear Rubha an Dùnain In John MacEwan’s Barn Iùraibh à, horaibh à Joyful was I last year Iùraibh à, horaibh à In John MacEwan's barn Iùraibh à, horaibh à Joyful was I last year Iùraibh à, horaibh à In John MacEwan's barn A kiss for Calum from the headland A kiss for every man A kiss for Calum from the headland And for the man from Doune Point A kiss for Calum from the headland A kiss for every man A kiss for Calum from the headland And for the man from Doune Point
8.
A ninth-century cross at Ardchattan Priory, Argyll, shows three hooded monks playing a harp, a triplepipe, and possibly a long wooden horn. Harps and horns can be reproduced from instruments in museums, but no ancient triplepipes survive. To reintroduce this medieval predecessor of the Highland bagpipe, Barnaby lived in Sardinia for six years immersing himself in the launeddas tradition. In this composition, he fuses the rhythmic structure of a Sardinian ballu seriu with the harmonic language shared by Highland pibroch and medieval Welsh harp music. The idea of clapping – warding off evil spirits, or tasting divine bliss through ecstatic movement and polyphony – comes from two sources: the agwara dance of the Alur people, Uganda; and the eighth-century Vespasian Psalter miniature that shows King David with musicians and two boys clapping.
9.
“O wha will lace my shoes sae sma', and wha will glove my hand? And wha will lace my middle sae jimp wi' my new-made linen band? And wha will kaim my yellow hair wi' my new-made siller kaim? And wha will faither my young son till Lord Gregory come hame? “Sae I will ger a bonnie bonnie boat and I will sail the sea, And I will gang to Lord Gregory since he cannae come hame to me. O row, O row, ye mariners and bring me to dry land, For yonder I see my love's castle close by the sault sea strand. “O open the door, Lord Gregory, O open and let me in, For the wind blows through my yellow hair and I'm shivering tae the chin.” “Awa, awa ye wild woman, some ill death may ye dee, Ah ye're either a witch or a wild warlock or a mermaid o the sea.” “I'm neither a witch nor a wild warlock nor a mermaid o the sea, But I am fair Annie of Roch Royal, O open the door to me.” “Awa, awa ye wild woman, for here ye sanna win in, Gae droon ye in the saut, saut sea or hang on the gallow's pin!” When the cock did craw and the day did daw and the sun began to peep, Then up did rise Lord Gregory and sair, sair did he weep. “I dreamed a dream, my mother dear, the thocht o it gars me greet, I dreamed fair Annie o Roch Royal lay cauld deid at my feet.” “Git it be Annie o Roch Royal that gars ye mak' a this din, She stood a' nicht at our ha' door but I didna let her in.” “Awa, awa ye cruel mother, some ill death may ye dee, That ye wadna let poor Annie in or else hae wauken me.” Sae he's gane doon tae yon sea shore as fast as he could fare, And he saw fair Annie in her boat and the wind it tossed her sair. The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough, and the boat was dashed on shore, Fair Annie she floated on the wave but her young son rose no more.” Lord Gregory tore his yellow hair and he made his heavy moan, Fair Annie lay cauld deid at his feet and his bonnie young son was gone. “O wae betide, cruel mother, some ill death may ye dee, That ye wadna let poor Annie in when she cam sae far tae me.”
10.
Heavy on me, this one day of morning. Heavy on me, this morning of blood. Your brown hair ringlets, your brown hair burning, your brown hair ringlets cold in my blood. Breath on your shroud, now shrinking and fading. Birth of your youth, filling with snow. Pass of the hosts, the waterfalls burning, in the light of your dead eye I see my love fill. Where you decay, in the crypt of your grave, your face worn away by softening soil, I will carry your morning of blood I will carry your morning of blood I will carry your morning of blood I will carry your morning, my love. Beiridh mi do mhadainn mo ghraidh Beiridh mi do mhadainn mo ghraidh Beiridh mi do mhadainn mo ghraidh Beiridh mi do mhadainn mo ghraidh
11.
Is ansin, tanic Plait, a cath na lureach amach, ocus abert fo trí, “faras Domhnall” “faras Domhnall” “faras Domhnall” Ro chomhreicsetar iaramh, ocus ro gabh cach dib ac airleach ocus athchuma a cheile a ccédoir. Cidh tra acht itrocratar comtuitim re chéile, ocus isamhlaid ro frith iad ar na mhárach ocus folt cechtair de i ndorn araile, ocus a cclaidhme tre chroidhibh a chéile. Ocus ro siacht cach ilocan a cele dib ocus ro turmed blod beim bailc, bodba, barbarda, don cathi cend araele. In tan nach tibred duni don da cath, achni ar celi cidé a mac no a brathair Ro cenglait ocus ro cuibrigit a ngae os a cennaibh da foltaib faidib, arna tescod do claidmib colgdirgib, ocus do tuagaib, taidleachaib. Ro eirig ém, badb; díscir, dian, denmnetach, dásachtach, dúr, duabrech, detcengtach, cruaid, croda, cosaitech, co barr oc screchaid ar luamain os a cennaib. Ro eirgetar am bananaig, ocus boccanaig, ocus geliti glinni, ocus amati adgaill, ocus siabra, ocus seneoin English translation Plait came forth from the battalion of the men in armour and said three times “Faras Domhnall” “Faras Domhnall” “Faras Domhnall” "They fought then, and attacked each other, and endeavoured each to slaughter and mangle the other. And they fell slain by each other, and they were found in the morning thus — the hair of each in the fist of the other, and the sword of each through the heart of the other." And each of them has come within the grasp of the other and the battalions made a furious, barbarous, smashing onset on each other Not one person of the two hosts could recognise another, though it might be his son or his brother. Our spears over our heads had become clogged and bound with long locks of hair, when cut away by well-aimed swords, and gleaming axes. And there arose a wild, impetuous, precipitate, furious, dark, frightful, voracious, merciless, combative, contentious, vulture, screaming and fluttering over their heads. And there arose also the satyrs, and the idiots, and the maniacs of the valleys, and the witches, and the goblins, and the ancient birds
12.
Reget diffreidyat, The defender of Rheged, clot ior agor g6lat, the lord of fame, anchor of the land, vy mod yssyd arnat. my contentment is in your hands. O pob erclywat, By all accounts, d6ys dy peleitrat, your spear-blow is deep, pan erclywat kat. When battle is heard. Kat pan y kyrchy(n)t, When you go to battle, g6nyeith a wneit. You wreak vengeance. Tan yn tei kyn dyd, The houses are ablaze before dawn rac vd Yrech6yd. before the lord of Erechwydd. Yrech6yd teccaf, Erechwydd is the fairest land, ae dynyon haelhaf. And its people the most generous. Gna6t Eigyl heb waessaf As usual the Angles are helpless am teyrn gle6haf. In the presence of the bravest ruler. Gle6haf eissyllyd, Bravest of lineage, tydi goreu yssyd, you are the best there is, or a uu ac a uyd. of all that have been and all that will be. Nyth oes kystedlyd. You have no competition. Pan dremher arna6, When one looks at you, ys ehelaeth y bra6. the terror is great. Gna6t g6yled ymdana6, There is always humility in his presence, am teyrn gocna6. in the presence of the forceful ruler. Amdana6 g6yled, There is humility in his presence, a llia6s maranhed, and great treasure, eurteyrn gogled, the golden ruler of the North, arbenhic teyrned. the foremost of rulers. Welsh edition and English translation courtesy of Dr Graham Isaac.
13.
These small pieces were written during the residency at Barscobe House. They are extracts from a sequence of haiku-like tercets, all relating to the immediate locality and with a placename reference of Gaelic provenance in each piece, many mentioned in the song Òran Bagraidh.

about

Vocalists and musicians from across the UK and Ireland collaborated during a residency in Barscobe house in Galloway in September 2018.

During the residency the artists produced an original arrangement of Oran Bagraidh. The song was published along with the music ‘When the Kye Comes Hame’ by lowland poet James Hogg – the ‘Ettrick Shepherd’ (1770 - 1835). Though the song is relatively recent the melody is believed to be much older and it is this melody that the artists used.

Taking informed guesses as to pronunciation, the song is sung in its original format in a Lingua Gadelica*, combining Scottish and Irish Gaelic elements which, from the evidence of local place names, was the case with Gaelic in Galloway. The song is also rendered in part in Welsh phonetics, reflecting mention of Welsh place names in the song and the fact that early Welsh was spoken in South West Scotland until as late as the 12th century.

The artists then took the song as a springboard for further work which explores commonalities and differences between musical styles and languages, within the context of the historical diversity of Galloway. They worked on original compositions and arrangements inspired by Oran Bagraidh, the landscape and each other. Taking the theme of multiple identities they explored commonalities and differences between languages, regional histories and musical sensibilities, dipping into traditional, experimental and electronic.

*a phrase coined by Scottish Gaelic/ Irish poet Rody Gorman during the residency.

www.oranbagraidh.com

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released February 2, 2019

Recorded and produced by Ben Seal
Mastered by Calum Malcolm
Commissioned by Knockengorroch

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Knockengorroch musics Dumfries and Galloway, UK

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