Fragments of ancient Irish lyrics... of a Gaelic with sounds and rhythms evoking alternating seasonal cycles... flights of wild geese who dream to return in a free land... the frenzy of a tightly knit play of ballads and dances that wind as colours along a natural landscape... the frenzy of a tradition that lives again and keeps on renewing itself in the Whisky Trail compositions where each separate instrument and their whole voices alternate as fragments of a Celtic trail.
The small Leprechaun
One day I saw a small leprechaun He was perched on top of a great mossy stone He was singing alone through a gap in his teeth His voice was in tune and pleasantly sharp His feet were skipping... 1-2-3-4 His hands were beating the time of the dance: I?m the last of the leprechauns look at me The very last fairy in this part of the land I need to teach my dance to someone So it won?t really just die with me To me you seem the perfect one And ready to sing and dance said he Go back in the world from where you came And tell all people about me and my kin And teach the girls and boys to sing And dance a jig in 1-2-3...
Scel lem duib- A Story for you
Sc?l lem d?ib Dordaid dam Ro f?ith sam Snigid gaim G?eth ard ?ar ?sel gr?an Gair a rrith Ruirtech r?an Ror?ad rath Ro cleth cruth Ro gab gn?th Ghiugrann guth Ro gab ?acht Etti ?n Aigre r? ? mo sc?l
A story for you The deer bellows Summer is over Snow in winter Cold strong wind Low is the sun Brief its course The sea swells The fern reddens Edges disappear The wild goose resumes its cry The cold captures The wings of the birds Kingdom of ice Is my story.
And play all a melody
Play harp of maple-tree your strings in tune Together with the bellowing reeds of an uilleann pipes Play guitar on your sound-box an exciting chord Together with a fiddle bow that brings to a dance And play all a melody to lead me in smooth sleep That makes me dream with your sweet sounds flying in the air And play all a melody to lead me in deep gloom That makes me weep and finally will lead me into the dance.
The lake Isle of Innisfree
I'll arise and go now and go to Innisfree And a small cabin build there of clay and wattles made Nine bean-rows I'll have there a hive for the honey-bee And live alone in the bee-loud glade And I'll have some peace there for peace comes dropping slow Dropping from the veils of morning to where cricket sings There midnight's all a glimmer and noon a purple glow And evening full of the linnet's wings I'll arise and go now for always night and day I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore While I stand on the roadway or on pavements grey I hear it in the deep heart's core.
Oh the praties they grow small Over here Over here... And we dig them in the fall And we eat them skins and all Over here Oh I wish that we were geese Night and morn Night and morn... And could live our life in peace Till the day of our release Eating corn Eating corn.
?ascac Muir-Sea rich with fish
?ascach muir Mothach t?r Tomaidm n-?isc! ?asc fo tuind I rethaib?n! Fairrge cruaid! Cassar find C?taib ?ach Lethan m?l Portach l?id Tomaidm n-?isc ?ascach muir.
Sea rich with fish Earth rich with fruit Bursting with fish Fish under waves In flocks of birds Swelling ocean White hail Hundreds of salmon Of great dolphins Song of the port Bursting with fish Sea rich with fish.
Johnny I hardly knew you
When I went down to sweet Athay with a stick in my hand and a tear in my eye a doleful damsel I heard cry Johnny I hardly knew you Where are the legs with which you run when first the enemy gave you a gun? Oh your dancing days are nearly done With guns and drums and drums and guns the enemy nearly slew you oh my darling dear you look so queer Johnny I hardly knew you You haven't an arm you haven't a leg you are an eyeless noseless chickenless egg You'll have to be put in a bowl to beg I'm happy for to see you home so low in flesh so high in bone But they never'll take our sons again!
Know that I would accounted be True brother of a company That sang to sweeten Ireland?s wrong Story rann song Because the red rose bordered hem Of her whose history began Before God made the angelic clan Trails all about the written page When Time began to rage The measure of her flying feet Made Ireland?s heart begin to beat And Time bade his candles flare To light the measure here and there After the red rose bordered hem Of her who is the druids land And of the faeries dancing under the moon.
Going in minor Tune
I get up and jump and jumping I turn I turn and I bounce and bouncing I bend I bend and I laugh and laughing I sing While the music is playing in a minor tune... Until all the laces of my shoes are tearing.
Irish Dream of wild Geese
I saw all suddenly mount And scatter wheeling in great broken rings Upon their clamorous wings And return to drift on the still water Among what rushes will they build By what lake's edge or pool Delight men's eyes when I awake some day To find have flown away?