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The digital download of our album is available at Amazon, CDBaby, and iTunes!
In addition, the physical CD can be purchased through CDBaby...
If you purchased a digital download card at one of our concerts, you may redeem it here.
You may listen to 30 second samples of our music using the music player below. As well, please scroll down for the album liner notes, song lyrics, and English translations.
Wren
Song is a Celtic family band focused on the renowned Gaelic world of traditional Scottish & Irish music.
We hope you find the roots of the past as interesting as we do. If so, we're sure you will enjoy our unique
selection of songs, some of which are based on the almost unknown Celtic tradition of Robin Hood—the following
possibly played & sung for the first time in hundreds of years:
- King Robin (Robin Y Righ)
- We'll Go to the Wood (Imigh Gys Y Coille)
- I Hunt the Wren (Shelg Mi An Dreathan), and
- Shaunnie o' Braidalaw have all been resurrected from dormant Robin Hood folklore.
Adele's belief is that the wren-hunting rituals of Celtic Britain stem from feats of rescue by Robin Hood in the forests of a misty time not yet past recall. The Shaunnie o' Braidalaw ballad, reconstructed by Adele, is actually a part of this story because the person rescued in it was Little John. Perhaps through our music you too, like Robin Hood and Little John, may be...
“to the greenwood gone”
A special thanks to Tony Wait “Clement of the Glen” for the use of his spectacular photo of the greenwood at Burnham Beeches, England.
Album photo copyright © 2010 Tony Wait. All Rights Reserved.
All other content copyright © 2010 Epic Tales Press. All Rights Reserved.
Cover crafted by Robert & Leighton Hajicek.
Along with Ruilleadh Cailleach & Curaigh Eòghainn
Traditional Scottish & Irish tunes
Performance credits to come...
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This beautiful ancient hymn from Ireland simply couldn’t be passed up. Sung in both Gaelic & English.
Lyrics, verses 1 & 2
Bí Thusa mo shúile
A Rí mhór na ndúil
Líon thusa mo bheatha
Mo chéadfaí's mo stuaim
Bí Thusa i m'aige
Gach oiche's gach lá
Im chodladh nó im dhúiseacht
Líon mé le do grá
Bí Thusa mo threorú
I mbriathar is i mbeart
Fan thusa go deo liom
Is coinnigh mé ceart
Glac cúram mar Athair
Is éist le mo ghuí
Is tabhair domsa áit
Cónaí istigh i do chroí
Translation
May You be my vision
Oh King of creation
Fill my life
With understanding and patience
May You be in my mind
Every night and everyday
Sleeping or awake
Fill me with Your love
May You be my guidance
In my words and actions
Stay with me forever
And keep me on the right path
As my Father take care of me
And listen to my prayers
And give me a place
To live inside Your heart
Lyrics, verses 3 & 4
Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise
Thou mine inheritance now and always
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art
High King of Heaven, my victory won
May I reach heaven’s joys, oh Bright Heaven’s Son
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall
Still be my Vision, oh Ruler of all
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My Complete Sorrow — This is a traditional Scottish Gaelic ‘waulking song’, a song for communal wool-pounding. The leader of the song sings the verses and the group joins in the chorus. When this song is performed with only a steady drum beat to mimic the pounding of cloth on a table, it uncannily reminds us of Native American music!
Lyrics
Séist:
Mo thruaigh léir thu 'ille bhuidhe
'S ann an diugh tha 'n déigh ort
Mo thruaigh léir thu 'ill bhuidhe
Chuir sinn croinn 's a bhàta
Dà latha mu 'n d'fhàg sin Éirinn.
Chuir sinn na croinn ùr innte
'S gun d'fhuair sinn smùid an déigh leinn.
‘Cutterean’ 's gàidsearan
Gar sàrachadh le chéile.
'S fùdar 's luaidhe Shassunach
Toirt farum air a dfle
Bha uisg' is clach-meallainn ann
'S a ‘canabhas’ g'a reubadh.
'N uair a dh'at n fhairge
'S i 'n ‘Earbag’ a bha treubhach.
Seachad Caisteal Duair leath'
Gun robh ar turas réidh leinn.
Bhas sinn 'sa Chuan-iar leath'
Mu 'n d'rinn a' ghrian ach éirigh.
Bha sinn an Loch-Aluinn
Mu'n d'rinn ach pairt dhiubh éirigh.
Translation
Chorus:
My complete sorrow for you, blonde lad
It is today that they’re (chasing) after you
My complete sorrow for you, blonde lad.
We put masts on the boat
Two days before we left Ireland.
We put the new masts in her
And we found smoke after us.
Cutters and excise men
Harassing us together.
English shot and powder
Sending a report on the planks.
There was rain and hailstones there
And the canvas was ripping.
When the ocean swelled
It was the Earbag that was strong.
Past Castle Duairt with her
Our course was straight.
We were in the Western Ocean with her
When the sun was just rising.
We were in Loch-Aluinn
Before many of us were awake.
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Come My Love — This song is Scottish Gaelic, and once again a beautifully done love song.
Lyrics
Coisich, a rùin, hù il oro
Cum do ghealdadh rium, o hi ibh o
Beir soraidh bhuam, hù il oro
Dha na Hearadh, boch orainn o
Beir soraidh bhuam, hù il oro
Dha na Hearadh, o hi ibh o
Gu Seon Caimbeul, hù il oro
Donn mo leannan, boch orainn o
Gu Seon Caimbeul, hù il oro
Donn mo leannan, o hi ibh o
Sealgair geòidh, hù il oro
Ròin is eala, boch orainn o
Sealgair geòidh, hù il oro
Ròin is eala, o hi ibh o
Bhric a ní leum, hù il oro
'N fhèidh ri langan, boch orainn o
'S fliuch an oidhche, hù il oro
Nochd's gur fuar i, o hi ibh o
Ma thug Clann Nìll, hù il oro
Druim a' chuain orr', boch orainn o
Ma thug Clann Nìll, hù il oro
Druim a' chuain orr', o hi ibh o
Luchd nan seòl àrd, hù il oro
'S nan long luatha, boch orainn o
Luchd nan seòl àrd, hù il oro
'S nan long luatha, o hi ibh o
'S nam brataichean, hù il oro
Gorm is uaine, boch orainn o
Bheir thu mach i, hù il oro
Dh’uisge fuaridh, o hi ibh o
Bheir thu steach i, hù il oro
Dh’Aibhainn chluaidh i, boch orainn o
Dh’fhag i diònach, hù il oro
Laidir, luath i, o hi ibh o
Cha b'fhear cearraig, hù il oro
Bheireadh bhuat i, boch orainn o
Translation
Come, my love, hù il oro
Keep your promise to me, o hi ibh o
Take greetings from me, hù il oro
Over to Harris, boch orainn o
Take greetings from me, hù il oro
Over to Harris, o hi ibh o
To John Campbell, hù il oro
My brown-haired sweetheart, boch orainn o
To John Campbell, hù il oro
My brown-haired sweetheart, o hi ibh o
Hunter of goose, hù il oro
Seal and swan, boch orainn o
Hunter of goose, hù il oro
Seal and swan, o hi ibh o
Of leaping trout, hù il oro
Of bellowing deer, boch orainn o
Wet is the night, hù il oro
Tonight and cold, o hi ibh o
If the MacNeills, hù il oro
Have to put to sea, boch orainn o
If the MacNeills, hù il oro
Have to put to sea, o hi ibh o
Men of high sails, hù il oro
And swift of ships, boch orainn o
Men of high sails, hù il oro
And swift of ships, o hi ibh o
And of banners, hù il oro
Blue and green, boch orainn o
You will bring her out, hù il oro
To cold water, o hi ibh o
You’ll bring her in, hù il oro
To the river Clyde, boch orainn o
She’d leave water-tight, hù il oro
Strong and quick, o hi ibh o
No left-hander, hù il oro
Could take her rudder from you, boch orainn o
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Ian of Glen Cuaich — This is the version we prefer of this lovely Scottish Gaelic love song. Traditional.
Lyrics
O Iain Ghlinn Cuaich, fear do choltais cha dual da fàs
Cùl bachlach nan dual 's e gu camlùbach suas gu bhàrr
'S i do phearsa dheas ghrinn a dh'fhàg mi cho tinn le gràdh
'S nach eil cron ort ri inns o mhullach do chinn gu d' shàil
Ach an trian dhe do chliù cha chuir mise a rùin an cèill
'S caoimh faiteal dhe d' ghnùis na ùr choille do dhriùchd ri grèin'
Gum b' e miann mo dhà shùil a bhith 'sealltainn gu dlùth a d' dhèidh
'S math a b' airidh mo rùn-s' air ban-oighre a' chrùin fo sgèith
Iain, Iain a ghaoil, cuim' a leig thu mi faoin air chùl?
Gun ghuth chuimhn' air a' ghaol a bh' againn araon air tùs
Cha tug mise mo spèis do dh'fear eile fon ghrèin ach thu
Is cha toir as do dhèidh gus an càirear mo chrè 's an ùir
Translation
Oh Iain of Glen Cuaich, it is not often that one encounters your like
That ringletted head of hair tight curled to the roots
It was your beautiful handsome appearance that left me love-sick
And there is no fault to be noted about you from head to toe.
I can’t begin to express a third of your worth
Better to catch a glimpse of your face
Than the new grown dew laden forest in sun
The desire of my eyes is to catch close sight of you
My love deserves a crowned heiress under him.
Iain, Iain, my love, why did you turn your back on me
Without a thought for the love we once had?
I never gave my respect to any other man under the sun but you
And neither will I until my body is under the ground …
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She is Your Grandmother — What a song! One feels one is actually listening to Gaelic gossip.
Traditional Irish Gaelic
Lyrics
Séist:
'Sí do mhaimeo í, 'sí do mhaimeo í
'Sí do mhaimeo í, cailleach an airgid
'Sí do mhaimeo í, ó Bhaile Inis Mhóir í
'S chuirfeadh sí cóistí ar bhóithre Cois Fharraige
Dá bhfeicfeá' an "steam" 'ghabhail siar Tóin Uí Loin'
'S na rothaí 'ghabhail timpeall siar ó na ceathrúnaí
Chaithfeadh sí 'n stiúir naoi n-uair' ar a cúl
'S ní choinneodh sí siúl le cailleach an airgid
Sí do mhaimeo í, 'sí do mhaimeo í
'Sí do mhaimeo í, cailleach an airgid
'Sí do mhaimeo í, ó Bhaile Inis Mhóir í
'S chuirfeadh sí cóistí ar bhóithre Cois Fharraige
Measann tú, 'bpósfa', 'measann tú 'bpósfa'
'Measann tú, 'bpósfa', cailleach an airgid?
Tá's a'm nach 'bpósfa', tá's a'm nach 'bpósfa'
Mar tá sé ró-óg 'gus d'ólfadh sé'n t-airgead
Sí do mhaimeo í, 'sí do mhaimeo í
'Sí do mhaimeo í, cailleach an airgid
'Sí do mhaimeo í, ó Bhaile Inis Mhóir í
'S chuirfeadh sí cóistí ar bhóithre Cois Fharraige
'S gairid go 'bpósfaidh, 's gairid go 'bpósfaidh
'S gairid go 'bpósfaidh, beirt ar an mbaile seo
'S gairid go 'bpósfaidh, 's gairid go 'bpósfaidh
Séan Shéamais Mhóir agus Máire Ní Chathasaigh
Sí do mhaimeo í, 'sí do mhaimeo í
'Sí do mhaimeo í, cailleach an airgid
'Sí do mhaimeo í, ó Bhaile Inis Mhóir í
'S chuirfeadh sí cóistí ar bhóithre Cois Fharraige
Translation
Chorus:
She's your grandmother, she's your grandmother
She's your grandmother, the old lady with the money
She's your grandmother, from the town of Innish Mór
And she would put coaches on the roads of Coish Farraige
If you'd see the steam boat going past Tóin Uí Loing'
And the wheels turning speedily at her flanks
She'd scatter the ‘store’ nine times to the rear
But she’d never keep pace with the old lady with the money
Chorus
Do you reckon he'd marry, do you reckon he'd marry
Do you reckon he'd marry the old lady with the money?
I know he'll not marry, I know he'll not marry
Because he's too young and he'll drink up the money
Chorus
We'll soon have a wedding, we'll soon have a wedding
We'll soon have a wedding by two in the village
We'll soon have a wedding, we'll soon have a wedding
Between Séan Séamais Mór and Máire Ní Chathasaigh
Chorus
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First we have Manx songery on the Wren Hunt resurrected with its tunes from old books and partly put into standard Gaelic orthography. These two possibly have not been sung for quite a while! Then, we sing the typical ‘King of All Birds’ from Ireland, and in conclusion, a delightful Welsh version we learned from Julie Murphy’s singing.
Many thanks to Cas Smith of the Valley Folk Club in Pontardawe Wales for assisting with the spelling of the last verse, as also to Llyr, a passionate Welsh speaker; and thanks for much kind assistance to Geraint Roberts and to Guto Dafis, who gave us accurate spelling for the first four verses!
First Intro Song — Shelg Mi an Dreathan / I Hunt the Wren
Shelg mi an dreathan
Gabh’s y cean
Is agam’s ny cassyn
Is bheir muid i fo’n thalloo
Translation
I’ve hunted the wren
You take the head
And the feet are mine
And we’ll bear it into the earth.
Second Intro Song — Imigh Gys Y Coille / Let’s Go to the Wood
Imigh gys y coille dubhairt Robin y Bhobbin
Imigh gys y coille dubhairt Richard y Robin
Imigh gys y coille dubhairt Sean y thalloo
Imigh gys y coille dubhairt ooilley unane.
Translation
I’m going to the woods says Robin the Bobin
I’m going to the woods says Richard the Robin
I’m going to the woods says Shaun the land/ground
I’m going to the woods says everybody.
Main Song — Irish Wren Boys’ Song
The Wren the wren, the king of all birds
On Saint Stephen’s day was caught in the furze
We gave him a knock and gave him a fall
And brought him here to show you all
I have a little box under me hand
Under me hand, under me hand,
I have a little box under me hand
A penny or tuppence will do it no harm
And if you draw it of the best
I hope in Heaven your soul may rest
And if you draw it of the small
It won’t agree with the boys at all
Sure and you’re a very fine woman
A very fine woman, a very fine woman
Sure and you’re a very fine woman
Now give us a penny to bury the wren
Down with the kettle and up with the pan
And give us a penny to bury the wren x2
On Christmas day I turned the spit
I burnt my thumb, I feel it yet
The spit rose up like a handsome man
And swore he’d drop the dripping pan
In came the pan with his lang tail
And swore he’d send them all to jail
Ah says the gridiron can’t you agree
I’m the justice bring’em to me!
The wren the wren, the king of all birds
On Saint Stephen’s day was caught in the furze
We gave him a knock and gave him a fall
And brought him here to show you all
And brought him here to show you all
You all.
Conclusion Song — Ble'r Ty Mynd / Where Are You Going?
B’le rwyt ti’n mynd, medda Ricard wrth Robin
B’le rwyt ti’n mynd, medda Dibbun wrth Dobbin
B’le rwyt ti’n mynd, medda John
B’le rwyt ti’n mynd medda’r never beyond
Rwy’n mynd tua’r coed, medda Ricard wrth Robin
Rwy’n mynd tua’r coed, medda Dibbun wrth Dobbin
Rwy’n mynd tua’r coed, medda John
Rwy’n mynd tua’r coed medda’r never beyond
Be’ wnei di yno, medda Ricard wrth Robin
Be’ wnei di yno, medda Dibbun wrth Dobbin
Be’ wnei di yno, medda John
Be’ wnei di yno medda’r never beyond
Llad y dryw bach, medda Ricard wrth Robin
Llad y dryw bach, medda Dibbun wrth Dobbin
Llad y dryw bach, medda John
Llad y dryw bach medda’r never beyond
Bwa a saeth, medda Ricard wrth Robin
Bwa a saeth, medda Dibbun wrth Dobbin
Bwa a saeth, medda John
Bwa a saeth medda’r never beyond
Translation
Where are you going, says Richard to Robin
Where are you going, says Dibbun to Dobbin
Where are you going, says John
Where are you going, says the never beyond.
I’m going to the woods, says Richard to Robin
I’m going to the woods, says Dibbun to Dobbin
I’m going to the woods, says John
I’m going to the woods, says the never beyond.
What’ll you do there, says Richard to Robin
What’ll you do there, says Dibbun to Dobbin
What’ll you do there, says John
What’ll you do there, says the never beyond.
Slay the little wren, says Richard to Robin
Slay the little wren, says Dibbun to Dobbin
Slay the little wren, says John
Slay the little wren, says the never beyond.
With bow and arrow, says Richard to Robin
With bow and arrow, says Dibbun to Dobbin
With bow and arrow, says John
With bow and arrow, says the never beyond.
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The Twisting of The Rope — A traditional Irish Gaelic courting song. In this song, a good young man laments the fact that the girl he chose to go courting is quite hard-hearted; even worse, it sounds like her mother is in cahoots against him! So when he comes for a visit, he quickly finds himself outside the door twisting straw rope.
Lyrics
A Rí na bhfeart cad do chas ins a' dúiche seo mé?
'S gur mó cailín deas a gheobhainn im' dhúthaigín beag féin
Gur casadh mé isteach mar a raibh searc agus rún geal mo chléibh
Is chuir an tseanbhean amach mé ag casadh an tsúgáinín féir
Curfá:
Má bhíonn tú liom, bí liom a stóirín mo chroí
Ma bhíonn tú liom, bí liom os comhair an tsaoil
Ma bhíonn tú liom, bí liom gach orlach de do chroí
Is é mo liom go fann nach liom dé Domhnaigh thú mar mhnaoí
Tá mo cheannsa liath le bliain is ní le críonnacht é
Ní bheathaíonn na briathra na bráithre pé sa domhan scéal é
Is táim i do dhiaidh le bliain is gan fáil agam ort féin
Is gur geall le fia mé ar sliabh go mbeadh gáir chon ina dhéidh
Do threabfainn, d'fhuirsinn chuirfinn síol ins a' chré
'S do dhéanfainn obair shocair álainn, mhín, réidh
Do chuirfinn crú fén each is mire shiúil riamh ar féar
Is ná héalaodh bean le fear ná déanfadh san féin
Translation
Oh God Almighty, what drove me to this district?
When it's many a fine lass I'd find in my own townland
I called into the house of my own true love
And the old woman put me twisting rope till I was outside the door
Chorus:
If you'll be mine, be mine, oh treasure of my heart
If you'll be mine, be mine before the whole world
If you'll be mine, be mine every inch of your heart
Alas that you're not my wife this Sunday
My head is gray and it's not from old age
Fair words butter no parsnips anyway
I'm after you now for a year and it's useless
And I'm like a deer on the moor and the hounds are yelping after me
I'd plow, I'd toil, I'd sow seed in the clay,
And I'd do a steady job beautiful, smooth and even
I'd shoe the maddest horse ever to walk on grass
And the woman still wouldn't elope with a man who'd do that
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Traditional Irish Reel
Performance credits to come...
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Traditional English ballad reconstructed by Adele Hajicek — This ballad, which is about Little John and represents a significant greenwood tradition, is mainly derived from Johnny of Bridala, but draws from synonymous parts of the Robin Hood tradition for its ending & makes use of all available ballad sources for the very-traditional ‘blowing the horn’ scene. The plot here is very old and differing parts of it may be found in many places of British tradition; Manx ritual dances, Highland Gaelic stories of ‘the Great Fool’ or Sean Mac Righ Boirbh of the heavy tread. Touching on the subject of rituals are the Scottish and English Sword-Dances, Mummer’s Plays & medieval Robin Hood plays, which all were based around this story. Admittedly, Shaunnie o’ Braidalaw, as it is composed of only the surviving ballad tradition of the tale, is firstly encrypted and secondly, the story does not finish and seems to have been lost in medieval times!
See http://adele.epictales.org for further discussion of this ballad.
Lyrics
Seven foresters in the Braidalaw
And they are wondrous fell
To catch a drop of Shaunnie’s heart blood
They would ride the fords of hell
Up Shaunnie raise in a May Morning
Called for water tae wash his hands
Says ‘Gar loose tae me the good grey dogs
That’re bound in iron bands’
Shaunnie’s ta’en his good bent-bow
But and his arrows keen
He’s strippit himself o’ the scarlet red
And put on licht Lincoln green
When Shaunnie’s mother got word o’ that
Her hands for dule she wrang
‘Oh Shaunnie, for my benison
Tae the greenwood dinna gang’
‘For your meat shall be o’ the very, very best
And your meat shall be o’ the same
And therefore for nae venison
I pray ye, stir frae hame’
He has made a solemn oath
Between the sun and moon
That he wald tae the greenwood gae
Tae ding the dun deer doon
Shaunnie lookit east, Shaunnie lookit west
And south under the sun
And there he saw the good dun deer
Beneath a bush of whunn
Shaunnie shot, and the dun deer lap
And he’s scaithed her in the side
Between the water and the wood
His hounds they felled her pride
They ate sae mickle o’ the meat
And drank sae mickle o’ the blood
That Shaunnie and his twa grey hounds
Fell asleep in yonder wood
‘As I gaed in by yonder woods
And doon amang the scrogs
The bonniest boy that e’er I saw
Lay sleepin’ between twa dogs’
‘His cheeks war like the roses red
His neck was like the snaw
His sark was o’ the Holland fine
And his jerkin laced fu’ braw’
Firstan the shot that they shot at
They woundit him in the knee
‘The wildest wolf in all the wood
Would not ha’ done sae by me’
‘Now stand me true my bow of yew
That was in London wrought
Fingers five, get up belive
And a stout heart fail me not’
He set his back until an oak
His foot until a stane
He’s outshot the seven foresters
Alive was left but ane
‘Hold your hand, I’ve deen ye nae harm
No more’n if you’d been my brother
Give me but a blast on my wee little horn
And I’ll give you another’
‘Wind your horn, thou proud fellow
Of thee I have no doubt
I hope that thou givest such a blast
Till both thine eyes start out’
He’s set his horn until his mouth
And he’s blown him behind
That beheard the great lord Guy
Was then leaning under the lind
They were so many Shaunnie wept
He wist for to be shent
‘I thought you had but a man or twa
But you have a whole convent’
Twa dogs at ance at Lord Guy did go
Tore his mantle frae his back …
Modern English Translation
Seven foresters in the Braidalaw
And they are wondrous fell
To catch a drop of Shaunnie’s heart blood
They would ride the fords of hell
Up Shaunnie raise in a May Morning
Called for water tae wash his hands
Says ‘Go/do loose to me the good grey dogs
That’re bound in iron bands’
Shaunnie’s taken his good bent-bow
But and his arrows keen
He’s stripped himself o’ the scarlet red
And put on light Lincoln green
When Shaunnie’s mother got word of that
Her hands for sorrow she wrung
‘Oh Shaunnie, for my blessing
To the greenwood don’t go’
‘For your meat shall be of the very, very best
And your meat shall be of the same
And therefore for no venison
I pray ye, stir from home’
He has made a solemn oath
Between the sun and moon
That he would to the greenwood go
To strike the brown deer down
Shaunnie looked east, Shaunnie looked west
And south under the sun
And there he saw the good brown deer
Beneath a bush of whunn* (Unknown)
Shaunnie shot, and the brown deer leaped
And he’s harmed her in the side
Between the water and the wood
His hounds they felled her pride
They ate so much of the meat
And drank so much of the blood
That Shaunnie and his two grey hounds
Fell asleep in yonder wood
‘As I went in by yonder woods
And down among the bushes
The bonniest boy that ever I saw
Lay sleeping between two dogs’
‘His cheeks were like the roses red
His neck was like the snow
His sark was of the Holland fine
And his jerkin laced full fine
The first shot that they shot at
They wounded him in the knee
‘The wildest wolf in all the wood
Would not have done so by me’
‘Now stand me true my bow of yew
That was in London wrought
Fingers five, get up quickly
And a stout heart fail me not’
He set his back until an oak
His foot onto a stone
He’s out-shot the seven foresters
Alive was left but one
‘Hold your hand, I’ve done you no harm
No more than if you’d been my brother
Give me but a blast on my wee little horn
And I’ll give you another’
‘Wind your horn, you proud fellow
Of you I have no fear
I hope that you give such a blast
Till both your eyes start out’
He’s set his horn unto his mouth
And he’s blown behind him
That was heard by the great lord Guy
Who was then leaning under the linden trees
They were so many Shaunnie wept
He knew he would be shent* (Unknown)
‘I thought you had but a man or two
But you have a whole convent’
Two dogs at once at Lord Guy did go
Tore his mantle from his back …
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Robin The King — This song was taken from an old Manx book! It seems to be describing a situation of desperate love between King Robin and a girl called Betsy, and is similar to English and Scottish traditions of Robin & Jenny Wren. Possibly, her name was actually Betsy.
Sung with clarsach (harp)
Lyrics
Fhaigh thu toppeachann deirge
Is riobainnan “green”
Mo Bhetsidh bheag dhilis
Ma bhios thu leam fhein
Robin y righ
Robin y righ
Ridlan, abuth, aban, fal dy ridlan
Robin y righ
Robin y righ
Fhaigh thu toppeachann deirge
Is riobainnan dubh
Bi thu Bhan Righan y Bhealtain
Sin faodaidh thu lugh
Robin y righ
Robin y righ
Ridlan, abuth, aban, fal dy ridlan
Robin y righ
Robin y righ
Oh! Bhetsidh bheag dhilis
Ni thu bhriste mo chriodh
Ta iad ag radh do eil thu toiruid
Leis Robin y righ
Robin y righ
Robin y righ
Ridlan, abuth, aban, fal dy ridlan
Robin y righ
Robin y righ
Translation
You will get red top-knots,
And green ribbons,
My sweet little Betsey,
If you will be mine.
Robin the king, Robin the king,
Ridlan, aboo, aban, fal dy ridlan,
Robin the king, Robin the king.
You will get red top-knots,
And dark ribbons
You will be Queen of Bealtain
So you can wed/swear
Robin the king, Robin the king,
Ridlan, aboo, aban, fal dy ridlan,
Robin the king, Robin the king.
Oh! sweet small Betsey,
You will break my heart;
They say you are pursued
By King Robin.
Robin the king, Robin the king,
Ridlan, aboo, aban, fal dy ridlan,
Robin the king, Robin the king.
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Along with Wings, Eagle's Whistle, & Heather Island
Traditional Scottish Bagpipe Tunes
Performance credits to come...
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In addition, the physical CD can be purchased through CDBaby...
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