A Song a Week #42- An Roghainn

An Roghainn / The Choice - Sorley MacLean & Donald Shaw.
This song is a musical setting of Sorley MacLean’s Gaelic poem, an Roghainn. I first heard it sung by beautiful traditional Gaelic singer Kirsteen MacDonald.
Sorley MacLean was born in Osgaig on the island of Rasaay on 26 October 1911. Brought up within a family and community immersed in Gaelic language and culture, particularly song, he is one of the most important Gaelic poets of modern times.
This poem, from a collection called ‘Dàin do Eimhir’ (Poems to Eimhir), combines the themes of love and political struggle. Having decided not to fight in the Spanish civil war, he questions whether he has proved himself unworthy of Eimhir’s love, as he hears she is marrying another.
In the final verse he realises that despite heartbreak and pain, he would make the same choice again.
The melody of the song was composed by Donald Shaw (Capercaillie)
Link to Bliadhna nan Òran & Kirsteen MacDonald recording here: www.bbc.co.uk/...
Lyrics:
Choisich mi cuide ri mo thuigse
a-muigh ri taobh a’ chuain;
bha sinn còmhla ach bha ise
a’ fuireach tiotan bhuam.
An sin thionndaidh i ag ràdha:
A bheil e fìor gun cual
thu gu bheil do ghaol geal àlainn
a’ pòsadh tràth Diluain?
Bhac mi ‘n cridhe bha ‘g èirigh
‘nam bhroilleach reubte luath
is thubhairt mi: Tha mi cinnteach;
carson bu bhreug e bhuam?
Ciamar a smaoinichinn gun glacainn
an rionnag leugach òir,
gum beirinn oirre ‘s gun cuirinn i
gu ciallach ‘na mo phòc?
Cha d’ ghabh mise bàs croinn-ceusaidh
an èiginn chruaidh na Spàinn
is ciamar sin bhiodh dùil agam
ri aon duais ùir an dàin?
Cha do lean mi ach an t-slighe chrìon
bheag ìosal thioram thlàth,
is ciamar sin a choinnichinn
ri beithir-theine ghràidh?
Ach nan robh ‘n roghainn rithist dhomh
‘s mi ‘m sheasamh air an àird,
leumainn à neamh no iutharna
le spiorad ‘s cridhe slàn.
Translation
I walked with my reason
out beside the sea.
We were together but it was
keeping a little distance from me.
Then it turned saying:
is it true you heard
that your beautiful white love
is getting married early on Monday?
I checked the heart that was rising
in my torn swift breast
and I said: most likely;
why should I lie about it?
How should I think that I would grab
the radiant golden star,
that I would catch it and
put it prudently in my pocket
I did not take a cross’s death
in the hard extremity of Spain
and how then should I expect
the one new prize of fate?
I followed only a way
that was small, mean, low, dry, lukewarm,
and how then should I meet
the thunderbolt of love?
But if I had the choice again
and stood on that headland,
I would leap from heaven or hell
with a whole spirit and heart.

[@geoffsoe-paing1136]

Brilliant

[@mairileach8816]

Tha seo direach sgoineil agus tha guth cho earachdail, alainn, binn agaibh.