An T-Iarla Diurach - Capercaillie

Ma's ann 'gam mhealladh, a ghaoil, a bha thu,

Ma's ann 'gam mhealladh as deigh do gheallaidh,

'Se luaidh do mholaidh ni mi gu brath,

Ma's ann 'gam mhealladh, a ghaoil, a bha thu.



Righ! gur mise tha gu tursach,

Gaol an iarla 'ga mo chiurradh,

Tha na deoir a'sior-ruith o m' shuilean

'S mo chridhe bruite le guin do ghraidh.



Bha mi raoir leat 'na mo bhruadar

Thall an Diura nam beann fuara,

Bha do phogan mar bhiolair uaine -

Ach dh'fhalbh am bruadar is dh'fhan an cradh.



Thig, a ghaoil, agus duin mo shuilean

'S a' chiste-chaoil far nach dean mi dusgadh,

Cuir a sios mi an duslach Diurach,

Oir 's ann 's an uir a ni mise tamh.



The Bens Of Jura



If deceiving me, o love, thou wert;

If deceiving me despite thy vow;

Yet chant thy praise I ever will,

Tho' deceiving me, o love, thou wert.



O King! I am the sorrowful one,

And the love of the Earl a-hurting me;

The tears are ever running from mine eyes,

And my heart is bruised with the sting of thy love.



Last night I was with thee in my dream,

Across in Jura of the cold bens;

Thy kisses were like the green water-cresses

- Fled the dream - remained the pain.



Come, o love, and close my eyes

In the narrow kirst where I shall never awake;

Lay me down under earth from Jura -

In the grave alone is there rest for me.