Lyrics

Arraneyn Cadlee (Lullabies)

Cadlee ny Moidyn Moirrey (Melody: Trad. Manx) / Arrane y Chlean (Trad. Manx)

Bee dty host my lhiannoo veen,
Vabban beg Mac Yee
Tou my voggey, t’ou m’eayn
Bee dty host, bee dty host
Vabban gow dty aash ayns shee
Caddil oo my chree

Jee t’ou er chur dou ooashley mooar
Vabban beg Mac Yee
Oikan t’ou lhiam-pene son oor
Bee dty host, bee dty host
Vabban gow dty aash ayns shee
Caddil oo my chree

‘Sy traa cheet, bee osnaghey aym
Vabban beg Mac Yee
Agh son jiu t’ou sauchey lhiam
Vabban gow dty aash ayns shee
Caddil oo my chree

[Arrane y Chlean / Arrane ny Ainleyn]

Va sniaghtey ‘syn aer as rio er y thalloo
Tra hooar shin sarey dy gholl sheese veih Niau
Va bochillyn faggys da balley beg cheerey
Huitt ad er nyn nglioonyn lesh aggle er creau
Ayns y speyr va rollage as v’ee scellal feer hollys
As sheeoil va’n kiaull va ry-chlashtyn ‘syn oie
Haink kiunys fy-yerrey er ny deiney cha faitchagh
As v’ad geaishtagh rish chaghter haink roosyn veih Jee

Ta oikan ry-gheddyn ayns ard-valley Ghavid
Saualtagh dy sheelnaue ta shen Creest nyn Jiarn
As bee shoh son cowrey t’eh fillit ayns aanrit
T’eh ny lhie ayns y vanjoor boayl ta beiyn ayn
Gloyr dy row gys nyn Yee ayns yn yriid as thalloo
Aigney mie, shee as graih bee gys deiney as mraane
Shoh yn naight yn choyrt riuish kionfenish nyn shassoo
Vees boggey mooar erriu as sheelnaue Amen

Hush, my dear child
Little baby, son of God,
You are my joy, you are my lamb
Hush, hush
Baby take your ease in peace
Sleep, my heart

God you have given me great honour
Little baby son of God
Infant you are mine for an hour
Hush, hush
Baby take your ease in peace
Sleep, my heart

In the coming time, I will be sighing
Little baby son of God
But for today you are safe with me
Baby take your ease in peace
Sleep, my heart

[Arrane y Chlean (a.k.a Arrane ny Ainleyn)]

There was snow in the air and frost on the earth
When we received an order to descend from Heaven
Shepherds were near a village
They fell on their knees shaking in fear
In the sky there was a star and it shone so brightly
And peaceful was the music that could be heard in the night
Quiet came at last to the men, so fearful
And they listened to a messenger who came to them from God.

A baby is to be found in the city of David,
Humankind’s saviour, that is Christ our Lord
And this will be a sign he is wrapped in swaddling
He is lying in a manger where there are animals
May there be glory to our God in heaven and earth
Good will, peace and love be to men and women
This is the news sent to you who are standing present
Which will be great joy to you and humankind, amen.

Mish as y keayn (Me and the sea)

Mish as y Keayn (Annie Kissack) / Arrane ny Niee (Trad. Manx)

Mish as y keayn as y clane speyr follym
As geay gharroo feayr ta caggey nyn ‘oi,
Faarkaghyn girree ayns boal keeir gorrym
As mish my lomarcan er y traie.

Oh dy row mee foast my ghuilley booiagh
Dy roie as dy chloie mygeayrt y traie,
‘Sy gheinnagh tash dy screeu my ennym
As dy yllagh magh ’S’lhiams eh’ rish y vaie.

Vaikyms yn feaynid shoh arragh ‘sy vea ayms?
Bee bleeantyn roym ayns Sostyn liauyr as dree.
Scarree y faarkey mee veih my ellan
Agh cummee ee ‘sy chooinaght ayms, as my chree.

——————————————————————————

Bee dty host my villish, bee dty host my villish,
Niee mish dty laueyn, niee mish dty chassyn,
Aalin t’ou, my lhiannoo: bane as rea dty challin
Sheeidey dty choamrey meein.

Dagh laa cur aalid ort, vyrneen lhiam ny folt cassagagh
Ree ny Rollageyn cur bannaght ort, O my chree, my stoyr.

 

Cooid nagh n’aase ‘sy voghrey, lhig eh gaase ‘sy cheeiragh,
Niee mish dty laueyn, niee mish dty chassyn,
Cooid nagh n’aase ec munlaa, lhig eh gaase ‘syn oie,
Cur ort dy-chooilley ghrayse.

Dagh laa cur niartys ort, Vyrneen lhiam ny folt cassagagh,
Ree ny Rollageyn cur bannaght ort, O my chree, my stoyr.

Myself and the sea and the whole empty sky
And a rough cold wind fighting against us,
Waves rising up in a grey-blue wall
And myself alone on the shore.

Oh that I were still a cheerful young man
To run and play about the shore,
To write my name in the damp sand
And to shout out ‘It’s mine’ to the bay.

Will I see this wild place again in my lifetime?
I will have years before me in England, long and tedious.
The ocean will separate me from my Island
But it will live in my memory and my heart.

——————————————————————————

Hush my sweet one, hush my sweet,
I will bathe your hands, I will bathe your feet,
You’re beautiful, my child: a fair, well-behaved girl,
With soft clothing of silk.

You become more beautiful every day, my little curly-haired darling,
The King of the Stars showers blessings on you, Oh my heart, my treasure.

That which does not grow in the morning, let it grow in the evening twilight,
I will bathe your hands, I will bathe your feet,
That which will not grow at midday, let it grow at night,
Bestowing every grace upon you.

Every day you become stronger, my little curly-haired darling,
The King of the Stars showers blessings on you, Oh my heart, my treasure.

Arrane Saveenagh - Slumber Song

(Trad. Manx)

Oh bee dty host lhiannoo, er dty lunjean
Tra heidys y gheay eisht leaystee y clean
My vrishys y bangan neose gys yn ooir
Hig lhiannoo as clean as ooilley nyn droor

Oh bee dty host lhiannoo er baare y tonn
Tra yllys yn gheay lunjeanee y lhong
She harrish yn aarkey, harrish yn cheayn
Ayns lhiabbee t’ou cadley, lhiannoo veg veen

Heear er y chronk glass, oh lhiannoo my chree.
Tra cheerys yn oie vees ooilley ec shee,
Agh ass yn aer feayn hig snieuanenyn kiaull,
Eaisht! Cluinnee uss adsyn troailt noon as noal.

O hush you my child, sleep while I sing
When the wind blows your hammock will swing
But if the branch breaks, down, down we shall fall
The babe in the cradle, the singer and all!

Oh hush my child on a wave born along
The tall ship is swaying, loud the wind’s song
‘Tis over the tide-ways, over the sea
Wrapped safe you will slumber sailing to me.

On the hills of the West, O child of my love
When darkens the twilight, peace broods above
But cobwebs of music through the air go
Hark! Can you not hear them drift to and fro?

Keayrt Hug Mee Graih (Once I gave love)

Melody (I Once Loved a Lady): David Speers, Lyrics: Colin Jerry

Keayrt hug mee graih da ben-aeg seyr, ’s nagh dug ee graih dou-hene
V’ee stoamey, dendeasagh as bwaagh, yn doodee share ‘syn treein.
Dy mennick va shin çheet nyn guaiyl, shooyl glionteeyn ayns yn oie,
As fockleyn graihagh er nyn meill, goaill toshiaght er sooree.

Va scollag elley ‘syn voayl shen gaase eadoilagh jeem-pene,
Hug breagyn da e h’ayr mychione my chooish, my stayd as clein.
Dy bollagh v’eshyn slane m’oi, as dob eh cur dou kied
Dy chur shilley arragh er y thie, ny loayrt r’ee er y traid.
 
Lesh daanys gheiney hie mee roym my chooish dy chummal seose.
My vyrneen hug ee cowrey dou dy row ee graihagh foast,
Agh haink e h’ayr lesh palchey dy airh, dy chionnaghey my ghraih,
As, nearey orrym, ghow mee ee, çhyndaa my chree ny h’oi.

Ta orrym nish rouaill yn seihll, ayns seaghnyn trome as treih.
Cha noddym rieau my hee y hauail, ny jarrood rieau my ghraih.
Vraane-seyrey eaisht-jee rish my skeeal, er-hoh diu creenaght share,
Dy haghney deiney molteyragh ta creck nyn nhraih son airh.

Once I loved a young lady, and she did not love me
She was lovely, delicate and pretty, the best lass in the treen
Often we would meet, walk the glens in the night
With loving words on our lips, starting our courtship.

Another lad in that place became jealous of me,
Who told lies about me, my state and my family to her father,
He was completely against me, and he refused to grant me permission
Dy visit her anymore at home, or speak to her in the street.

With the boldness of men I went to uphold my case,
My sweetheart gave me a sign that she still loved me,
But her father came with a large amount of gold, to buy my love
And, shame on me, I took it, turning my heart against her.

I have to wander the world now, deeply troubled and miserable,
I cannot ever find my peace or ever forget my love,
Ladies listen to my story, here is the best wisdom,
To avoid deceitful men that sell their love for gold.

Graih Foalsey (False Love)

(Trad. Manx)

My ghrogh villey nish er y doodee foalsey
As mee sooree urree rish ymmodee laa;
Tra honnick ee nagh row graih eck orrym
Oddagh ee ve er n’obbal ayns traa.
Yn Billey gall glass chro cha ren rieau taggloo
Feanishyn elley cha row aym
As nish ta my ghraih er phrowal dy foalsey
As ta mee faagit my lomarcan.

Hems roym nish er yn Eailley Pherick,
As coamreeym-pene myr scollag aeg erbee;
Hems shaghey my ghraih ayns mean y vargey
Cha lhiggym orrym dy vel mee fakin ee.
Agh O! dy jinnagh yn gheay vooar sheidey,
Dy voddym clashtyn voish my ghraih
As ee çheet hym harrish ard-sleityn,
Veeitagh shin ry-cheilley er çheu yn traie.

O s’gennal s’gennal hem roym dy veeiteil r’ee,
My fys v’aym dy beagh my ghraih ayns shen;
O s’gennal s’gennal yinnin soie sheese lioree,
My roih myr clooiesag eck fo e kione.
Agh O! dy jinnagh yn keayn mooar çhirmagh
Raad dy yannoo dy voddym goll trooid,
Nee sniaghtey Ghreenlyn gaase jiarg myr roseyn
Roish my voddym my ghraih yarrood.

My curse now upon the false maid
Whom I’ve been courting for many the day;
When she realised that she didn’t love me
She could have duly refused.
The green walnut tree never spoke,
I had no other witnesses
And now my love has proven false
And I am left alone.

I will go forth now on St. Patrick’s day,
And I will dress myself like any young scholar;
I will pass my love in the middle of the market,
I won’t let on that I see her.
But oh! if only the great wind would blow
That I might hear from my love
And that she might come to me over high mountains.
We would meet each other beside the shore.

Oh how glad I would go to meet her,
If I were to know that my love would be there.
Oh how merry I would sit down beside her,
My arm like a pillow beneath her head.
But oh! If only the great sea would dry
To make a road which I could go through,
The snow of Greenland will become red, like roses,
Before I can forget my love. 

Ny Kirree fo Niaghtey (The Sheep under the Snow)

Ny Kirree Fo Niaghtey (Trad. Manx)

Lurg geurey dy niaghtey as arragh dy rio,
Va ny shenn chirree marroo as ny eayin beggey bio.
Oh, irree shiu my vochillyn as gow shiu da’n clieau
Ta ny kirree fo niaghtey, cha dowin as v’ad rieau.

Shoh dooyrt Nicholas Raby, as eh ‘sy thie çhing,
Ta ny kirree fo niaghtey ayns Braaid Farrane Fing
Oh irree shiu my vochillyn as gow shiu da’n clieau
Ta ny kirree fo niaghtey, cha dowin as v’ad rieau.

Dirree mooinjer skyll Lonan as hie ad er y çhooyl
Hooar ad ny kirree marroo ayns Laggan Varool.
Oh, irree shiu my vochillyn as gow shiu da’n clieau
Ta ny kirree fo niaghtey, cha dowin as v’ad rieau.

Dirree mooinjer skyll Lonan as Skylley Chreest neesht,
Hooar ad ny kirree beggey ayns Laggan Agneash
Oh irree shiu my vochillyn as gow shiu da’n clieau
Ta ny kirree fo niaghtey, cha dowin as v’ad rieau.

After a winter of snow and a spring of frost,
The old sheep were dead, and the little lambs were alive.
Oh, rise up, my shepherds, and go to the mountain
The sheep are under the snow, as deep as they ever were.

This is what Nicholas Raby said, as he was ill at home,
The sheep are under the snow in Braaid Farrane Fing.
Oh, rise up, my shepherds, and go to the mountain
The sheep are under the snow, as deep as they ever were.

The people of the parish of Lonan rose up and went immediately,
They found the dead sheep in the hollow of Barrule.
Oh, rise up, my shepherds, and go to the mountain
The sheep are under the snow, as deep as they ever were.

The people of the parish of Lonan and Lezayre rose up
They found the little sheep in Laggan Agneash.
Oh, rise up, my shepherds, and go to the mountain
The sheep are under the snow, as deep as they ever were.

Eubonia Soilshagh (Shining Isle of Man)

Eubonia Soilshagh (Melody: Annie Kissack, Lyrics: Samuel Rutter ) / Moirrey ny Cainle Jig (Trad. Manx) / Grine veg Oarn (Melody: Annie Kissack, Lyrics: Trad. Manx)

Jeeagh, jeeagh yn ghrian ta reill yn oie,
Son soilshey daue ta genial soie,
Ta’n billey-feeney s’moyrnagh troo
Mysh shoh, ta jeh yn coontey smoo

Co-Ch

Moyllee-jee maryms, Vanninee,
Yn lhune vie lajer as y vraih;
Dagh seaghyn as dagh kiarail t’ayn
Ta gholl ersooyl lesh bree yn oarn

Dy beagh y staghyl nagh gow coyrle
Er n’iu jeh shoh, ga losht yn seihll,
Yn ooir as aer mygeayrt-y-mysh,
Veagh eh cha sauchey’s ta shin nish

[Co-Ch]

Oh heshey, gow yn ghless shoh hood,
Cre’n aght hee’yms dty stroin ny hrooid
Myr ta’n gholl twoaie jeh cooyl yn aile
Myr shen ta shoh lesh soilshey’n chainle

[Co-Ch]

O boyaghyn, ny cur-jee geill
Da eddin aalin nee falleil;
Dooghys cha dug dooin ny share veih
Na shoh lesh eash ta gaase ny sbwaiee

[Co-Ch]

Agh myr ta’n grian fo bodjal still
Dasyn ta doal ny doon y hooill
Eshyn nagh n’iu jough tra t’eh paa
She shoh ta jannoo’n oie jeh laa

[Co-Ch]

——

Ta’n grine veg oarn, ta’n grine veg mie as daase rieau ayns yn aaie
Dy chur dy shenn deiney goll myr ny guillyn, as guillyn goll myr feeaih.

Ta’n grine veg oarn, ta’n grine veg mie as daase rieau ayns yn aaie
Dy lhiggey da chengaghyn roie myr ny strooanyn as taggloo fud ny h’oie.

Ta’n grine veg oarn, ta’n grine veg mie as daase rieau ayns yn aaie
Dy chur da shenn mraane goll myr y gheay as lheim mygeayrt y thie.

See, see the sun that rules the night,
For light to them that cheerful sit
The proudest vine is envious
About this being counted best.

Chorus:

Ye Manxmen, sing with me the praise
Of the good strong ale and the malt;
For ev’ry trouble, ev’ry care
Goes away with the barley bree.

If the dolt who’d not take advice,
Had only drunk of this, though burned
The world, the earth and air around,
He would be safe as we are now.

Chorus

O comrade,-take this glass to thee,
That through it I may see thy nose!
Like the rainbow behind the fire
Like what is seen by candlelight.

Chorus

O boys, do not pay any heed
To a pretty face that will fade!
Nothing better nature gives us,
Then this which with its age improves

Chorus

But as the sun is ‘neath a cloud
To him who’s blind or shuts his eye,
Who’ll not drink ale when he’s dry,
This is what turns the night to day.

Chorus

——

The wee grain of barley, it is good grain and it always grew in the home-field,
To make the old men go like boys, and boys go like deer.

The wee grain of barley, it is good grain and it always grew in the home-field,
To let tongues run like streams and talk through the night.

The wee grain of barley, it is good grain and it always grew in the home-field,
To make old women go like the wind and leap about the house.

Vuddee Veg ([Sweet] Little Girl)

(Annie Kissack)

Vuddee veg, vuddee veg, lhiannoo my chree,
Jeeagh magh ass yn uinnag er bodjallyn yn oie
Sheeney myr skian coar ny hastan vooar ghoo
Shen cur fo doorey y jannoo jeant jiu

Vuddee veg, vuddee veg, sheeyn dou dty laue
Dty laue vane as booiagh ta mirrilagh dou
Ta’n raad gys dty lhiabbee feer liauyr traa t’ou skee
Shoolym y raad mayrt, oh chirree my chree

Vuddee veg, vuddee veg, bee mairagh braew,
Nagh jig yn ghrian seose reesht y theihll vooar y hiow?
Nee yn faiyr noa gaase as nee oo roie er
Uss dy chloie, mish dy hoie rish ooir ny ghaa

Vuddee veg, vuddee veg, stiagh ayns dty lhiabbee,
Sauchey as blah as hig cadley dy tappee
Jiu jeigh dty hooillyn dhone, lhie sheese dty chione
As gow dty aash ayns dty chruinney veg chionn

Sweet little girl, child of my heart,
look out of the window at the night clouds
stretching out like the wing of a great black heron
bringing to darkness the end of the day.

Sweet little girl, give me your hand,
your trusting, white hand that is marvellous to me.
The road to your bed is so long when you’re tired;
I’ll walk that road with you, Kitty my love.

Sweet little girl, tomorrow will be fine.
Will the sun not come up again warming the world?
The new grass will grow and on it you’ll run;
you to play, me to sit for an hour or two.

Sweet little girl, tucked up in bed
Safe and warm and sleep will come soon.
Close your brown eyes, lay down your head
and take your rest in your snug little world.

Arrane Oie Vie (Goodnight Song)

(Trad. Manx)

T’eh traa goll thie as goll dy lhie,
Ta’n stoyl ta foym greinnagh mee roym,
T’eh signal dooin dy ghleashagh,
T’eh tayrn dys traa ny lhiabbagh.

My ghuillyn vie, shegin dooin goll thie;
Ta’n dooid çheet er y çhiollagh
T’eh geginagh shin dy gholl dy lhie;
T’eh bunnys traa dy ghra, ‘oie vie’.

It is time to go home and go to bed,
The stool under me urges me to go,
It indicates to us to move,
It is drawing on towards bed-time

My good lads, we must go home;
The hearth is darkening;
It compels us to go to bed;
It is almost time to say, ‘Good Night’.