Sail Óg Rua, An

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  • Teideal (Title): Sail Óg Rua, An.
  • Uimhir Chatalóige Ollscoil Washington (University of Washington Catalogue Number): none.
  • Uimhir Chnuasach Bhéaloideas Éireann (National Folklore of Ireland Number): none.
  • Uimhir Roud (Roud Number): none.
  • Uimhir Laws (Laws Number): none.
  • Uimhir Child (Child Number): none.
  • Cnuasach (Collection): Joe Heaney Collection, University of Washington, Seattle.
  • Teanga na Croímhíre (Core-Item Language): Irish.
  • Catagóir (Category): song.
  • Ainm an té a thug (Name of Informant): Joe Heaney.
  • Ainm an té a thóg (Name of Collector): James Cowdery (unconfirmed).
  • Dáta an taifeadta (Recording Date): between 1979 and 1981.
  • Suíomh an taifeadta (Recording Location): Wesleyan University, Middletown, Connecticut, United States of America (unconfirmed).
  • Ocáid an taifeadta (Recording Occasion): private.
  • Daoine eile a bhí i láthair (Others present): unavailable.
  • Stádas chóipcheart an taifeadta (Recording copyright status): unavailable.

The Conamara air is different to the Munster air. This is the Munster air now:

(An Saileog Rua A)

Nach mise an trua-mhuire ag gabháil go Carraigín an Fhásaigh
Ag gol is ag garrthaíl is ag déanamh bróin,
Ag oiliúint mo linbh ar bhacán mo láimhe
Gan fiú an braon bainne agam a bhéarfainn dhó.

Níl mé ach go tréith-lag, níl gar dhá shéanadh
Muise, níl mé ar aon nós ach mar an gceo.
Tá fuil mo chroí istigh dhá shilt na braonta
Is a Dhia cén t-ionadh i ndiaidh mo Shaileog Rua.

B’fhearr liom go mór mór i mo dhiaidh san ród í
Ag bleán mo bhóín nó i mbun mo thí
Ná saibhreas Sheoirse1 is é a fháil le stróinse
‘S gur faoi na fóid atá grá mo chroí.

Translation (An Saileog Rua A)

Am I not the pitiable creature, going to Carraigín an Fhásaigh
Weeping and wailing and making moan
Nursing my child in the crook of my arm
And not even a drop of milk to give him.

I am only a weakling, there’s no denying it
Indeed, I am as insubstantial as fog
My heart is bleeding within me
And no wonder, with my Red-Haired Sally gone.

I would far rather she were following me in the road
Milking my cow, or keeping my house
Than all of George’s1 wealth, got for nothing;
But my heart’s love is below the sod.

…How that’s the exact way, the Munster way. Now the Conamara way is like this. Now this is a story about a young girl, she was only sixteen, her lover killed her. And when he saw the blood, that’s when he started writing… composing the song.

(An Saileog Rua B)

Is in aois a sé-déag a fuair mé féin í
Nár dheas an féirín í ag fear le fáil
Do dhá chích ghléigeal le do leanbh a bhréagadh
Is a stór dhá bhféadfainn é ní bhfaighfeá bás
B’fhearr liom go mór mór ‘mo dhiaidh san ród í
Ag bleán mo bhóín nó i mbun mo thí
Ná saibhreas Sheoirse is é a fháil le óinseach
Ach gur faoi na fóide a chuir mé stór mo chroí.

‘S mo ghrá do bhéilín nár chum na bréaga
Is do dhá chois ghléigeal mar an eala bhán
Do chom is do chéidse (?) a mheall na céadta
Ach chuaigh tú in éag uaim i do chailín óg
Dhá bhfaighinnse mábla de chaille ghránna
Nach í a bheadh fáinneacht liom [unintelligible]
Ach a stóirín álainn a dtug mé grá dhuit
Ó chuir mé sa ngáile thú i do chailín óg.

Translation (An Saileog Rua B)

She was sixteen when I got her –
And wasn’t she a lovely gift for a man to get
Your two white breasts to soothe your child
And darling, if I could help it, you’d be alive.
I’d far rather have you in the road behind me
Milking my cow, or keeping my house
Than George’s wealth with a foolish woman
But it’s below the sod that I buried my heart’s treasure.

I love your mouth, that never told lies
Your two bright feet, like the white swan
Your waist and your (?) which bewitched hundreds
But you went to your death, a young woman
If I got an ugly old hag
Wouldn’t she (_____________) with me
But my lovely little treasure to whom I gave my love
I’ve buried in the (_______) as a young girl.

That’s a… it’s a sort of a lament, you know. Because when he killed her, you see, then he got sorry, you know. Because he was so – I don’t get this, myself – he was so fond of her that he was afraid, you see, that if he, if he didn’t kill her that somebody else would get her.

Notes

1. George (Seoirse) i.e. the English king.

Joe describes the first of these versions as ‘the Munster way,’ differentiating it from the second, which he classifies as ‘the Conamara way,’ which employs a different air and has somewhat different words. The first air – from Munster or not – is doubtless the best known these days, as it has been commercially recorded by a number of Conamara singers, including Pádraic Ó Catháin, Josie Sheáin Jeaic Mac Donncha, Peadar Ó Ceannabháin, and Darach Ó Catháin; it is also the version that Mrs Costello included in her 1923 collection, Amhráin Mhuighe Seóla (p. 30).

Variants of version B include a recording of ‘Saileog Rua’ made by Séamas Ennis from Joe’s cousin Colm Ó Caodháin which is held in the archives of the Irish Folklore Commission in Dublin; and ‘Oileán Éadaigh,’ of which Mrs Costello obtained a single verse, in Amhráin Mhuighe Seóla (p. 115). Further stanzas, along with an amplified account of the seanchas connected with the song, can be found in T. Ó Concheanainn (ed.), Nua-Dhuanaire III (pp. 5-6 and notes).

The fact that Joe had not, by his own account, sung this song in a great while is probably responsible for the lack of clarity in some of the words, especially of the second version. He sang version B one other time, also for James Cowdery, but whether before or after the present occasion is impossible to say. Here are the words as he sang them at that time (UW85-1.11B):

Mo ghrá do bhéilín nár chum na bréaga
Do bhrollach gléigeal mar an eala bhán
Do dhá chích ghléigeal le do leanbh a bhréagadh
A stór, dhá bhféadfainn é ní bhfaighfeá bás.
Níl a fhios ag daoine a leath mar a bhímse
San am a smaoiním ar Shailóg Rua
Tá fuil mo chroí istigh dhá silt na mbraonta
Is a Dhia cén t-ionadh i ndiaidh mo stór?

B’fhearr liom go mór mór ‘mo dhiaidh san ród í
Ag bleán mo bhóín nó i mbun mo thí
Ná saibhreas Sheoirse is é a fháil le stróinse
Ach faoi na fóide a chuir mé stór mo chroí.
Mo ghrá do bhéilín nár chum na bréaga
Do bhrollach gléigeal mar an eala bhán
Is a stór mo chroí dhá dtabhairfeá póg dom
Ní chuirfí faoin bhfód thú i do chailín óg.

The fellow who murdered his sixteen-year-old girlfriend. And lamented it the minute he’s after doing it. When he saw her blood flowing, he composed the song. There’s a lot of that happening in the Gaelic songs, you know. Lots of it.