211. Lullaby. Taladh
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Carmina Gadelica, Volume 2, by Alexander Carmicheal, [1900], at sacred-texts.com
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TALADH [211] | LULLABY |
THE swan is a favourite bird and of good omen. To hear it in the morning fasting--especially on a Tuesday morning--is much to be desired. To see seven, or a multiple of seven, swans on the wing ensures peace and prosperity for seven, or a multiple of seven years.
In windy, snowy, or wet weather swans fly low, but in calm, bright, or frosty weather they fly high; but even when the birds are only specks in the distant blue lift above, their soft, silvery, flute-like notes penetrate to earth below. Swans are said to be ill-used religious ladies under enchantment, driven from their homes and forced to wander, and to dwell where most kindly treated and p. 195 where least molested. They are therefore regarded with loving pity and veneration, and the man who would injure a swan would thereby hurt the feelings of the community.
A woman found a wounded swan on a frozen lake near her house, and took it home, where she set the broken wing, dressed the bleeding feet, and fed the starving bird with lintseed and water. The woman had an ailing child, and as the wounds of the swan healed the health of the child improved, and the woman believed that her treatment of the swan caused the recovery of her child, and she rejoiced accordingly and composed the following lullaby to her restored child:--
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EALA bhan thu, ’S truagh do charamh, ’S truagh mar tha thu, ’S t-fhuil a t’ fhagail, Eala bhan thu, Cian o d’ chairdiu, Bean do mhanrain, |
THOU white swan, Sad thy condition, Pitiful thy state, Thy blood flowing, Thou white swan, Far from thy friends, Dame of thy converse, | ||
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Fan am nabachd, Leigh an aigh thu, Sian mo phaisdean, Dion o ’n bhas e, Greas gu slaint e, Mar is ail leat, Pian is anradh Dh’ fhear do sharuich, Mile failt ort, Buan is slan thu, Linn an aigh dhut, |
Remain near me, Leech of gladness thou, Sain my little child, Shield him from death, Hasten him to health, As thou desirest, Pain and sorrow To thine injurer, A thousand welcomes to thee, Life and health be thine, The age of joy be thine, | ||
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Anns gach aite, * * * * Furt is fas dha, Neart is nas dha, Buadh na larach, Anns gach ait dha, Moire Mhathair, Mhin ghil aluinn, Bhi da d’ bhriodal, Bhi dha d’ mhanran, Bhi dha d’ lithiu, Bhi dha d’ arach, |
In every place, * * * * Peace and growth to him, Strength and worth to him, Victory of place, Everywhere to him, The Mary Mother, Fair white lovely, Be fondling thee, Be dandling thee, Be bathing thee, Be rearing thee, | ||
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Bhi dha d’ dhion Bho lion do namhu; Bhi dha d’ bheadru, Bhi dha d’ naisdiu, Bhi dha d’ lionu Leis na grasu; Gaol do mhathar thu, Gaol a graidh thu, Gaol nan ainghlean thu, Ann am Paras! |
Be shielding thee From the net of thine enemy; Be caressing thee, Be guarding thee, Be filling thee With the graces; The love of thy mother, thou, The love of her love, thou, The love of the angels, thou, In Paradise! |
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