Celtic Lyrics Corner > Artists & Groups > Capercaillie > Crosswinds > Am Buachaille Ban

   
Crosswinds Am Buachaille Ban
   
Credits: Arranged by Capercaillie
   
Appears On: Crosswinds
   
Language: Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic)
   
Other Versions: "Am Buachaille Ban" on Back Of The Moon's album Back Of The Moon
"Am Buachaille Bàn" on Cliar's album Gun Tàmh
"Ochòin A Righ Gura Tinn Mo Galar An Gràdh" on Fiona Mackenzie's album Seinn! O Ho Ro Seinn!
"Air Fail A Lail O" on Mouth Music's album Mouth Music
"Ochoin A Righ, Gur Tinn An Galair An Gradh" on Margaret Stewart & Allan MacDonald's album Fhuair Mi Pog
   

Lyrics: English Translation:
   
Och, ochan a righ Alas and alack
Gura tinn an galair an gradh What a deadly sickness is love
Chan eil neach air am bi There is none who suffers it
Nach saoil gura seach dainn gach la But feels every day is a week
Gunn bhrist e mo chridh It has broken my heart
'S gun sgaoil e cuislean mo shlaint And sapped the springs of my health
Bhith 'g amharc ad dheidh To keep gazing after you
A gheug a'bhrollaich ghil bhain Young of the fair white bosom
Ghil bhain White bosom
   
A bhuachaille bhain Fair-haired lad
Ma 's aill leat labhairt air thuis If you but care to speak first
Gura leatsa gun dail mo lamh My hand shall be yours without delay
Ma thig thu rim dluth If you come for me
Gur truagh mar ta Play it is true
Nach d'tharlaidh mis'agus thu You and I did not find ourselves
An eilein gun truagh On an island with no ebb
Gun ramh, gun choite, gun stiuir With no oar, no boat, no rudder
Gun stiuir No rudder
   
Na faiceadh sibh geug If you could see such a shoot
'S i 'g eirigh maduinn chiuin cheo Springing up on a calm misty morning
Le pearsa dha reiri iu With looks to go with it
Ceudan mhealladh 'nan doigh To win the hearts of thousands
Gur binne do bheul Sweeter is your voice
Na teudan thidheall ri ceol Than the strings of violins playing
Nach truagh leat mi 'd dheidh Can you not take pity on me
Leam fhein air cnoc ri bron Alone without you, lamenting on a knoll?
Ri bron Lamenting
   
Och, ochan a righ Alas and alack
Gura tinn an galair an gradh What a deadly sickness is love
Chan eil neach air am bi There is none who suffers it
Nach saoil gura seach dainn gach la But feels every day is a week
Gunn bhrist e mo chridh It has broken my heart
'S gun sgaoil e cuislean mo shlaint And sapped the springs of my health
Bhith 'g amharc ad dheidh To keep gazing after you
A gheug a'bhrollaich ghil bhain Young of the fair white bosom
Ghil bhain White bosom
Ghil bhain White bosom