26 Session at Graces
Episode Guide – Podcast #26 Session at Graces
Roche (with Liam) shares “Ned of the Hill” at a session in Grace’s in Cloughjordan, County Tipperary. CLICK THE PLAY BUTTON below to watch.
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We share a moment from a session at Grace’s in Cloughjordan, County Tipperary.
Anyone who followed our blog this summer knows we enjoyed a lot of great music. One of our favorite sessions was held at Grace’s on Monday nights. We thought we’d share a moment when Roche, a Grace’s regular, sings Eamonn a’ Chnuic, which translates to Ned of the Hill.
The song tells the story of a Tipperary man named Edmond (Ned) Ryan, an Irish Earl displaced by Cromwell. His outlaw reputation began when he killed a tax collector over a confiscated cow belonging to an old woman. He was later killed by fellow Irishman for reward money.
This movie was shot on my digital camera, so I was surprised to discover that the footage and sound was decent enough to include on the podcast.
You’ll get to see Liam singing in Irish with Roche. Tony on Fiddle, Theresa on tin whistle and Kathleen on piano. Our friends Breda, Tilly and Liza are also there…and several other folks who stuck around for the end of the session. Here’s the TravelBlog entry from that evening.
Enjoy…here are the words of the song in Irish and English.
EAMONN A’ CHNUIC
Ce-h-é sin amuigh
Go bhfuil faor ar a ghuth
A’ reaba mo dhorais dúnta?”
“Mise Eamonn a’ Chnuic
Tá báidhte fuar fluich
O shior-shúil sléibhte is gleannta”
“A lao ghil’s a chuid
Cad do dhéannfainnse duit
Mara gcuirfinn ort béinn dom ghúna?
‘S go mbeidh púdar dubh
Is go mbeimis araon muchta”
“Is fada mise amuigh
Faoi sneachta is faoi shioc
Is gan dánacht agam ar éinne
Mo bhranar gan cur
Mo sheisreach gar sgur
Is gan iad agam ar aon chor
Nil cairde agam
(Is danaid liom san)
Do ghlacfadh mé moch na déanach
Is go gcaithear mé dul
Thar farraige soir
O’s ann na fúil mo ghaolta
NED OF THE HILL
“Oh who is without
That with passionate shout
Keeps beating my bolted door?”
“I am Ned of the Hill
Forspent wet and chill
From long trudging marsh and moor”
“My love, fond and true
What else could I do
But shield you from wind and from weather?
When the shots fall like hail
They us both shall assail
And mayhap we shall die together.”
“Through forest and through snow
Tired and hunted I go
In fear both from friend and from neighbor
My horses run wild
My acres untilled
And they all of them lost to my labor
But it grieves me far more
Than the loss of my store
That there’s none who would shield me from danger
So my fate it must be
To fare eastward o’er sea
And languish amid the stranger”