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The Jail of Cluan Meala

  • (Trad / J. J. Callanan)

    How hard is my fortune, how vain my repining
    The strong rope of fate for my young neck is twining
    My strength is departed, my cheeks sunk and sallow
    While I languish in chains in the jail of Cluan Meala

    No boy in the village was ever yet milder
    I could play with a child and my sport be no wilder
    I could dance without tiring from morning till evening
    And my goalball I'd strike to the lightning of heaven

    At my bed foot decaying my hurley is lying
    Through the lads of the village my goalball is flying
    My horse 'mong the neighbours neglected may fallow
    While this heart young and gay lies cold in Cluan Meala

    Next Sunday the pattern at home will be keeping
    All the lads of the village the fields will be sweeping
    And the dance of fair maidens the evening will hallow
    While this heart young and gay lies cold in Cluan Meala

    (as sung by Luke Kelly)

Susannes Folksong-Notizen

  • [1994:] Another song Luke [Kelly] did very well in translation was The Jail of Clonmel or Priosún Chluain Meala, which he got from Liam Clancy [...]. In an interview in Kilkenny years later, Luke remembered learning the song from a book which had the Irish version on one page and the translation on the facing page. (Geraghty, Luke Kelly 95f)

Quelle: Ireland

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