ran don ideadh Ghidhealach - Song to the Highland Garb

Chant du costume des Highlands

Le Donnchadh Bn Mac an t-Saoir - by Duncan Ban MacIntyre

From "ORAIN AGUS DANA Gaidhealach le Donnchadh Bn Mac an t-Saoir"
(digital.nls.uk/early-gaelic-book-collections/ )

Tune - Mlodie
"ran don ideadh Ghidhealach"
as sung by Cisir Ghidhlig Ceann Loch Chille Chiarain (the Kinloch-Kilkerran Gaelic choir)
(www.bbc.co.uk/alba/oran/orain/oran_don_eideadh_ghaidhealach/)
Sequenced by Christian Souchon (c) 2015




SONG TO TH HIGHLAND GARB

1. I have lately received tidings
that accord with my heart's desire,
that we may have the native costume
we wore in our earliest days;
since, with full glasses, we are
discussing delectable news,
here is the toast of Montrose
who claimed this right for us.

2. To-day I saw in Edinburgh
the festive company gathered;
O blessed letter that told us
the news that gave rise to our glee!
The bagpipe was skilfully tuned
in clear view on the smooth knoll,
we displayed our garb in public,
and who will call us rebels?

3. For thirty years and more
a tweed cassock enveloped our back;
we had a hat and a coat
that style was foreign to us;
buckles were tying our shoes
smarter we deemed the thong;
the obnoxious costume we wore
made carles of our comely youths.

4. It partly ruined our figure
from the sole to the top of our head;
we were so filled with depression
that every man became ill;
indeed, their plight was as dire
as ever arose in my time,
when the London clique deprived us
of all dignities and respect.

5. For a long time honour was lost,
while Lowlanders' mode clung to us;
a coat that reached to the heel
it never looked handsome on us;
the breeches must needs be in vogue
when our authority grew so meek
that every clan was enslaved,
and every male left unclad.

6. We are now as we like to be,
and high at court is our friend,
who dressed the men in the style
of which the English Parliament robbed them.
Ever blessed be the Marquis
who pled our cause at this time;
he won back for us every right due,
by the King's and the crown's decree.

7. He secured for us sanction for arms
to serve us for hunting the peaks,
and defending our men in the field
by leaving their enemies crushed;
it would stir up the valour of clansmen
for the wielding of blades with zest
pipe, with flag on staff, playing
the loud march that is dear to me.

8. We have now gained freedom that pleases
patriotic feelings all round
sanction to don our garb
without asking the tortuous crew;
now we are dressed as is meet,
and the mode will delight our eye;
we have discarded the breeches,
and they will never emerge from recess.

9. We have assumed the suit
that is lightsome and fitting for us
the belted kilt in its pleats,
and a waistcoat of vivid cloth;
a jacket of chequered homespun
in which crimson tints are massed;
hose that restrains not our step,
and falls short of the knee by a span.

10. The Gaels will hold up their heads
and they will be hemmed in no more;
those tight fetters have vanished
that made them languid and frail;
they will traverse the mountain moors
to hunt slim stags with their hound;
sprightly will they go dancing,
and react to the lilt of each tune.

11. We are obliged to the noble
who, by his firmness, won renown;
by resolute skill he has thrust
the folly of others aside;
heir of the chief of the Grahams,
with many strains of blue blood in his face,
this is the talented Marquis,
the son who will follow the Duke.

Source: "www.poetrynook.com/poem/song-highland-garb"
RAN DON IDEADH GHAIDHEALACH

1. Fhuair mi naidheachd as r
Tha taitinn ri rn mo chrdh',
Gum faigheamaid fasan na dthch'
Chleachd sinn an ts ar tm:
On tha sinn le glainneachan ln
A' bruidhinn air mnran binn,
'S i deoch-slinte Mhontris
A sheasadh a' chir seo dhuinn.

2. Chunna mi 'n-diugh an Dn ideann
Comann nam fileadh cruinn,
Litir an fhortain thug sgeul
Air toiseach ar n-ibhnis dhuinn:
Pob gu loinneil air ghleus
Air soilleireachd ridh an tuim;
Thug sinn am follais ar n-ideadh,
'S c a their reubail rinn?

3. Deich bliadhna fichead is crr
Bha casg den chl mur druim;
Fhuair sinn ad agus clec
'S cha bhuineadh an t-sers' ud dhuinn;
Bucaill a' dnadh nam brg,
'S e 'm barrall bu bhidhche leinn;
Rinn an droch-fhasan a bh' oirnn
Na bodaich der n-igridh ghrinn.

4. Mhill e pirt der cumhachd
On bhlr gu mullach ar cinn;
Bha sinn cho ln de mhulad
'S gun d' fhs gach duin' againn tinn;
'S ann a bha 'n cs cho duilich
'S a thinig uile rir linn,
Nuair a rinn prtaidh Lunnainn
Gach it' is urram thoirt dhinn.

5. O 's fhada bha 'n onoir air chall
Is fasan nan Gall oirnn dlth,
Cta ruigeadh an t-sil,
Cha tigeadh e dicheil dhuinn;
B' iginn don bhriogais bhith ann,
Nuair chaidh an commannd cho cumhang
'S gun d' rinneadh gach fine na thrill,
'S gach fireannach fhgail risgt'.

6. Tha sinn a-nis mar is math leinn
'S gur h-rd ar caraid sa chirt,
Chuir air na daoin' am fasan
Rinn Prlamaid Shasainn thoirt dhuibh
Beannachd gu brth don Mharcus
A thagair an-drst' a' chis
Fhuair e gach dligheadh air ais dhuinn
Le ceartas an rgh 's a' chrin.

7. Fhuair e dhuinn comas nan arm,
A dheanamh dhuinn sealg nan stc,
'S a ghleidheadh ar daoine sa' chmp,
Le fgail an nimhdean brit
Thogadh e misneach nan clann
Gu iomairt nan lann le sunnt,
Piob, a's bratach ri crann,
'S i caiseamachd rd mo rin.

8. Fhuair sinn cothrom an-drst'
A thoillicheas grdh gach dthch',
Comas ar culaidh chur oirnn
Gun fharaid de phr nan lb;
Tha sinn a-nis mar as cir
Is taitnidh an sel r' ar sil;
Chuir sinn a' bhriogais air lr,
'S cha tig i gu brth cil.

9. Chuir sinne suas an deise,
Bhios uallach, freagarach, dhuinn,
Breacan an fhile phreasach,
A's peiteag do'n eudach r;
Cot' a chadadh nam ball,
Am bitheadh a' chrnaid di,
Osan nach ceangail ar ceum,
'S nach ruigeadh mar ris an gln.

10. Togaidh na Gidheil an ceann,
Cha bhi iad am fang nas m;
Dh'fhalbh na spirichean teann
Thug orra bhith mall gun lth;
Sibhlaidh iad fireach nam beann
A dh'iarraidh dhamh seang len c
'S eutrom thid iad a dhannsa
Freagraidh iad srann gach ciil.

11. Tha sinn an comain an uasail
A choisinn le cruadal cli;
Chuir e le temachd lidir
Faoineiseachd chich air chil
Oighre chinn-chinne nan Greumach,
'S iomadh fuil rd na ghnis,
'S ann tha Marcus an igh
Am mac thig an ite 'n Dic.

From ORAIN AGUS DANA Gaidhealach le Donnchadh Bn Mac an t-Saoir (Songs and poems in Gaelic by Duncan Ban McIntyre (10th edition, 1887 Edinburgh)
CHANT DU COSTUME DES HIGHLANDS

1. Voici les dernires nouvelles
Rjouissez-vous!
Le costume de nos anctres
N'est plus tabou!
Puisque l'on a rempli nos verres,
Chantons ce droit!
Je porte ce toast Montrose:
On le lui doit.

2. En Edimbourg j'ai vu la foule
Qui s'assemblait.
On y dclarait ouvertes
Les festivits.
Face la butte, la cornemuse
Qui prludait
Saluait notre antique mise
Qu'on peut porter!

3. Depuis trente ans et d'avantage
Nos pauvres dos
Etaient courbs sous les casaques
Et les chapeaux
Et des boucles fermaient nos chaussures
Pas des lacets
Confrant de vieillards l'allure
Aux plus jeunets.

4. Cela cassait nos silhouettes
De pied en cap;
Nous versions ce poison sans cesse
Dans nos hanaps.
C'tait la vexation la plus rude
Qui fut jamais,
Depuis qu' Londres on nous prive
De dignit.

5. Etant depuis belle lurette
"Lowlandiss",
Un manteau couvrait nos chaussettes,
Quoi de plus laid?
Il fallait porter la culotte,
- Ordre des chefs-.
Faisant de nos clans des hilotes
Nus, derechef.

6. Cela c'est de l'histoire ancienne:
Un cur vaillant
Fit de notre cause la sienne
Au Parlement.
Marquis, sois bni d'ge en ge,
Toi qui plaidas
Notre cause en termes si sages,
Auprs du roi!

7. A nous les armes pour la chasse
Sur les sommets;
Pour repousser l'intrus qui passe
Sur nos gurets!
- De quoi ressusciter en nos mes
L'ardeur d'antan
Que cornemuse et oriflamme
Marchent devant!

8. Il est permis aux patriotes
De ce pays,
De mettre aux orties la culotte
Sans alibi.
Nous n'aurions jamais d cesser d'tre
Porteurs de kilts:
Les culottes vont disparatre,
Toile ou coutil.

9. Nous remettons notre costume
Le plus seyant:
Kilt pliss pris dans la ceinture,
Gilet pimpant;
Vestes carreaux tisses sur place,
Rouges surtout,
Bas qui n'entravent point et laissent
Voir les genoux.

10. Le Gal va relever la tte,
Libre nouveau;
Les bandes serres cessent d'tre!
Ces oripeaux
L'empchaient d'arpenter les landes
Avec ses chiens
De prendre part aux sarabandes
Avec entrain.

11. Noble, qui l'on est redevable
De ces bienfaits,
Saluons l'ardeur inpuisable
Qui t'animait;
Chef des Graham, ton fils est digne
De ses ans,
Et au Duc, de l'honneur insigne
De succder!

(Trad. Christian Souchon (c) 2015)
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