Siamo nell'ottocento e una donna dell'isola di Lewis, scrive il testo per una melodia struggente; Fear a Bhata, il barcaiolo. Vive a Tong, un paesino di lingua gaelica di poche anime, lei e' una poetessa e si chiama Jean Finlayson, si e' innamorata di un pescatore. Il testo non lo dice ma sappiamo che la storia d'amore andra' a buon fine, poco dopo che il barcaiolo ascolto' la canzone.
Riporto il testo originario e la traduzione in inglese.
Primo video: versione strumentale di Fear a Bhata a casa del cantautore Dougie MacLean - alla chitarra.
Versi gaelici
Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile
Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile
Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile
Mo shoraidh slàn leat 's gach àit' an téid thu
'S tric mi sealltainn on chnoc as àirde
Dh'fheuch am faic mi fear a' bhàta
An tig thu 'n-diugh na 'n tig thu màireach
'S mar tig thu idir gur truagh a ta mi
Tha mo chridhe-sa briste brùite
'S tric na deòir a ruith o m' shùilean
An tig thu nochd na 'm bi mo dhùil riut
Na 'n dùin mi 'n doras le osna thùrsaich?
'S tric mi faighneachd de luchd nam bàta
Am fac' iad thu na 'm bheil thu sàbhailt
Ach 's ann a tha gach aon dhiubh 'g ràitinn
Gur gòrach mise ma thug mi gràdh dhut
Gheall mo leannan dhomh gùn dhen t-sìoda
Gheall e siud agus breacan rìomhach
Fàinn' òir anns am faicinn ìomhaigh
Ach 's eagal leam gun dèan e dìochuimhn'
Ged a thuirt iad gun robh thu aotrom
Cha do lughdaich siud mo ghaol ort
Bidh tu m' aisling anns an oidhche
Is anns a' mhadainn bidh mi 'gad fhaighneachd
Thug mi gaol dhut 's chan fhaod mi àicheadh
Cha ghaol bliadhna 's cha ghaol ràithe
Ach gaol a thòisich nuair bha mi 'm phàiste
'S nach searg a chaoidh gus an claoidh am bàs mi
Tha mo chàirdean gu tric ag innseadh
Gum feum mi d' aogas a leig' air dìochuimhn'
Ach tha 'n comhairle dhomh cho dìomhain
'S bi tilleadh mara 's i toirt lìonaidh
Bidh mi tuille tùrsach deurach
Mar eala bhàn 's i an dèidh a reubadh
Guileag bàis aic' air lochan feurach
Is càch gu lèir an dèidh a trèigeadh
Secondo video: versione cantata da Karen Matheson, orginaria di Taynuilt - vicino a Oban, sulla costa occidentale. Ad accompagnarla il suo gruppo storico: i Capercaille.
Traduzione in inglese Chorus (after each verse): O Boatman, no one else O Boatman, no one else O Boatman, no one else My farewell to you wherever you go I often look from the highest hill That I might see my boatman Will you come tonight, or will you come tomorrow Oh sorry will I be if you do not come at all My heart is broken, bruised Often tears are running down from my eyes Will you come tonight, or will I wait up for you Or close the door with a sad sigh? I often ask of the boatmen If they have seen you, if you are safe But they all tell me That I was foolish if I gave you love. My darling promised me a gown of silk That and a fine tartan A golden ring in which I'd see a likeness But I fear that he shall forget. Although they said you were flighty That did not lessen my love for you You are in my dreams at night And in the morning I ask for you. I gave you love and cannot deny It's not love that lasts a year or a season But a love that began when I was a child And that will not wither until death do take me. My friends say often That I must forget your image But their counsel is as unfathomable to me As is the returning tide. I am all too sad and tearful Like a white swan that has been torn Sounding her death-call on a small grassy loch Having been forsaken by all.
Comments