An Draigneán Donn traditional, arr. Susan McKeown Síleann céad fear gur leo féin mé nuair ólaim leann Ní airím iad nuair a smaoiním ar a chomhrá liom Sneachta síobtha ’s é á shíorchur faoi Shliabh na mBan bhFionn Is tá mo ghrá-sa mar bhláth na háirne ar an draighneán donn Is, a Dé dhil, cad a dhéanfainn má imíonn tú uaim? Níl eolas chun do thí agam, chun do thine ná do chlúid Tá mo mháithrín faoi leatrom is m’athair san uaigh Mná na hÉireann ag déanamh géim díom is mo ghrái bhfad uaim Fear gan chéill a bheadh ag dréim leis an chraobh ’tá ard Is an crann beag íseal le na thaobh sin ar a leagfadh sé lámh Cé gur ard é an crann caorthainn bí sé searbh os a bharr Is fásfaidh sméara is bláth sú craobh ar an chrann is ísle bláth Dhá chéad slán is duit a bhéarfainn, a mhíle grá Mar is baileach do shladais an croí as mo lár Níl coite agam a chuirfinn i do dhiadh ná bád Sin í an fharraige ina tuiltibh eadrainn, is ní heol dom snámh translation: The Blackthorn Tree A hundred men think I am theirs when I drink ale I do not hear them when I think of his conversation with me The driven snow forever falling on Sliabh Uí Fhloinn And my love is as the blossoming of the sloe on the blackthorn tree And o dear God, what would I do if you leave me? I don’t know the way to your home or your hearth or your bed My mother is afflicted and my father’s in the grave The women of Ireland making fun of me and my love far from me A foolish man will take to climbing the higher branch When there is a lower tree beside him where he rests his hand The mountain ash is a lofty tree but its fruit is bitter While blackberries and raspberries grow on the bush of the lowliest blossom Two hundred farewells I would bid you, my dearest love For you have definitely stolen the heart out of my breast I have no skiff to chase you in, nor any boat There is the sea in floods between us, and I don’t know how to swim