An Raibh Tú ag an gCarraig? traditional, arr. Susan McKeown An raibh tú ag an gCarraig nó a’ bhfaca tú fhéin mo ghrá? Nó a’ bhfaca tú gile, finne agus scéimh na mná? Nó a’ bhfaca tú an t-úll ba deas is ba mhilse bláth? Nó a’ bhfaca tú mo Vailintín nó a’ bhfuil sí á cloí mar ’táim? Ó bhí mé ag an gCarraig is chonaic mé fhéin do ghrá Ó chonaic mé gile, finne agus scéimh na mná Ó chonaic mé an t-úll ba deas is ba mhilse bláth Agus chonaic mé do Vailintín agus níl sí á cloí mar ’táir Nuair a bhímse im chodladh bíonn osna gan bhrí im chliabh ’S mé im luí idir chnocaibh go dtige an ghrian aniar; A rúin ghil ’s a chogair, níl fuartacht mo chuise ach Dia, ’S go ndearnadh loch fola de sholas mo shúl id dhiaidh. Translation: Were You at Carrick? Have you been at Carrick and saw you my true love there And saw you her features, all beautiful, bright and fair? Saw you the most fragrant, flowering sweet apple tree? Oh! Saw you my loved one, and pines she in grief like me? ’I have been at Carrick and saw thy own true love there And saw, too, her features, all beautiful, bright and fair; And saw the most fragrant, flowering sweet apple tree - I saw thy loved one - she pines not in grief like thee’ When seeking to slumber my bosom is rent with sighs I toss on my pillow till morning’s blest beams arise No aid, bright beloved, can reach me save God above For blood-lake is formed of the light of my eyes with love