Spailpín Fánach, An (Seosamh Ó Clochartaigh)

Play recording: Spailpín Fánach, An (Seosamh Ó Clochartaigh)

Is spailpín aerach tréitheach mise agus bígí ag soláthar mná dhom
Mar chraithfinn an síol faoi dhó san Earrach in éadan na dtaltai bána
Ó chraithfinn an síol faoi dhó san Earrach in éadan na dtaltai bána
Mo láimh ar an gcéachta a’m i ndiaidh na gcapall ‘s go réabfainnse cnoic le fána.

Mo chúig chéad slán le dúthaigh m’athar is go deo deo don oileán grámhar,
Is don scata fear óg a bhí ‘mo dhiaidh sa mbaile a chabhródh in aimsir an gheáibh liom.
Tá Baile Átha Cliath dóite agus tógfar Gaillimh, beidh lasair ar thinte chnámha ann,
Beidh fíon agus puins ar bord ag m’athair is seo hé an chabhair ag an spailpín fánach!

Agus b’fhaide liom seachtain i dteach gan cara ná bliain mhór fhada is ráithe,
Mar is buachaillin lúfar meanmach mise a d’iompródh ceaig i mála.
Bhí dhá bhean déag ag éad ‘s ag iomadh liom, ag tóraíocht tairbhe mo láidhe
‘S gurb é paidir na cailligh nuair a thagainn thar a tairseach, ‘behave you spailpín fánach!’

‘S an chéad lá i nÉirinn dhár liostáil mise nach mé a bhí súgach sásta
Ach an dara lá dhár liostáil mise thabharfainn ór an tsaoil é a fhágáil;
Ach an tríú lá dhár liostáil mé bhí ocht bpingin déag as mo pháighe
A’s dhá mbaintí sin agus oiread eile as ní raibh mo phas i ndán dom.

A’s bhí mé lá thíos i nGaillimh is bhí an abhainn ag gabháil le fána
Bhí an breac ‘s an eascann ‘s an beairtín slata¹ ann a’s chuile ní eile dhá bhreátha
Ó bhí na mná óga go múinte macánta, bhíodar tanaí tláith deas
Ach dheamhan bean go luífinn léi go maidin nach gcuirfinnse an dubh ar an mbán di.

Agus pé ar bith bean óg a thiocfainn síos an bóthar is deas é a cúilfhionn álainn
Agus pé ar bith táilliúr a thóig a miosúr tá mé cinnte go raibh sé i ngrá léi.
Mar thóig sé a miosúr aníos ón talamh a’s go hárd ós cíonn a básta
A’s deir siad liomsa gurb shin é an t-údar go mbíonn sí i gcónaí ag gáire!

Translation

I am an airy, talented spalpeen – provide me with a woman!
For I would sow the seed twice in the autumn over the fallow fields,
Oh I would sow the seed twice in the autumn over the fallow fields,
My hand on the plough, following the horses, ploughing the slope of the hillside.

My fond farewell to my father’s homeland, and to the beloved island,
And to the crowd of young lads at home who would help me when things needed to be done quickly.
Dublin is burnt, and Galway will be raised up – bonfires will be lighting there!
My father will have wine and punch laid out on the table – and that will be a help to the wandering spalpeen!

A week in house without a friend would seem to me longer than a long year and a season,
For I’m an active, spirited lad who would carry a keg in a bag!
There were twelve women jealously vying for me, looking for the fruit of my spade;
And the old woman’s prayer, when she’d see me on the threshold: ‘Now behave yourself, you wandering spalpeen!’

The first day that I signed up, wasn’t I merry and pleased!
But the second day I’d have given the world’s gold to be done with it.
On the third day I had eighteen pence from my pay –
But if that were taken from me, and as much again, I still wouldn’t get my pass out.

One day I was down in Galway, and the river was running past;
There were trout and eels and [an beairtín slata] and every other lovely thing.
Oh, the young women were kind and mannerly – they were slim and gentle.
But any woman I’d spend the night with, I’d have her convinced that black was white!

Whatever young woman comes down the road – her hair is lovely!
And whatever tailor took her measurements, I’m sure he fell in love with her.
For he took her measurements from the ground up to high above her waist –
and they tell me that’s the reason she’s always laughing!